The Akira-te Kid — An Akira Satou Fan Route
by CozyRavioli
Summary: Transferred to a new school for the disabled, Hisao learns to cope with his heart problem and falls in love with a physically impaired girl in the process... At least in most routes. In this one the crippled chicks just stress him out, and a certain blonde lawyer offers to mentor him. But what happens when the apprentice becomes attracted to his new life coach? Sweep the leg.
1. Walk in the Middle

**ACT 1 – Grasshopper**

 _Part 1: 'Walk in the Middle'_

* * *

I don't know what I'm doing wrong.

It's a frustrating thought, one that's been crossing my mind a lot lately. I try to brush it off and not dwell on it too much, but it's especially hard to ignore it in the rare moments I have to myself, such as this godawful morning routine.

Leaning against my desk, gripping my glass of lukewarm tap water, I allow myself a few short breaths to prepare before I down the first of the larger tablets I need to take each day in order to survive. In the beginning, when I had first started taking my medication, I had opted to take the smaller pills first and work my way up to the big ones. These days I'd rather just get the uncomfortable part over and done with. I hope the gag reflex eventually goes away with experience.

…Not that I would ever want to take advantage of the lack of a gag reflex.

I look over to the alarm clock on my bedside table and see that there's still fifteen minutes left before I have to go meet up with Emi for my daily exercise. That's fifteen more minutes to feel sorry for myself and ponder how I could have possibly handled my situation differently.

One ungraceful flop later, and I'm lying down on my bed once more, staring up at the tiled ceiling of my still unfamiliar dorm room.

I've been here at Yamaku less than a week, yet it feels as if it's already been a month. It's funny how good times pass in an instant, but when things get rough it seems to last forever. 'Father Time' must be a bit of a prankster.

You feel fantastic. Surrounded by fluffy, white snow, standing opposite a blushing classmate, letting it sink in that someone as cute as her has confessed her feelings for you. That's over almost instantly. In exchange for that one fleeting moment of happiness you're rewarded with cardiac arrest, a lonely hospital room, and months of suffering. Then you're shipped off to a new school which caters exclusively to defective misfit toys such as yourself.

I turn my head to look out my window, but the sun is just coming out now so I can't see too much outside. Instead, I'm met with the gaze of my own reflection. Brown eyes and messy brown hair. Not great looking, but not ugly. Generally inoffensive, other than the irritating, upright strands of hair in the middle of my scalp which refuse to stay down despite eighteen years of my best efforts. That, and I cut my cheek shaving ten minutes ago. My hands have gotten shaky the past couple of days.

"Hello, Hisao."

He doesn't respond because I don't let him. Having conversations with yourself is weird.

After taking one last, deep breath to steady my nerves I force myself off of my mattress and shoot forwards toward my bedroom door, grabbing my water bottle in the process. I take special care to proceed slowly past the door of my neighbour, Kenji Setou, lest I wake him up and get assaulted by yet another diatribe against anyone and everyone who had the audacity to be born with a vagina.

Deep down, I know that I shouldn't be so antagonistic with Kenji. He's mostly harmless, and clearly has some of his own issues to deal with. In his own twisted way, he's gone through a lot of effort to make me feel welcome at Yamaku. He can be counted among the handful of people I've tentatively come to consider friends since transferring here. As a result, he's also a contributing factor to my current anxiety.

Upon reaching the main entrance to the boys' dormitory and heading outside onto the school grounds, I immediately notice how nice the weather is. The rising sun casts a warm, orange glow over the school building and reflects beautifully off of the freshly mowed, dew-laden grass surrounding the area. The pleasant sight stands in stark contrast to my current mood, so much so that it's almost insulting. It's like the world is mocking me. I do my best to shake away the cynical thought and continue my brisk walk toward the track.

Admittedly, maybe this _is_ all my fault. It could be that I'm going about adjusting to my new life incorrectly. On paper, what I've done seems perfectly reasonable. When someone is thrust into a brand new school, especially in the middle of their graduating year, they're typically encouraged to put themselves out there and make friends.

By the time I had arrived at Yamaku, all of the other students were firmly set in their cliques and social circles. Everyone else had had years to become familiar with one another. They had the opportunity to slowly become acquainted with their peers and allow bonds to form organically. I had no such opportunities, so I've had to settle for a more active approach.

It's one thing to become disabled, but I refuse to be considered an outcast in a school for the disabled. My pride can only take so many hits. Whenever I've been presented with the chance to form friendships with my classmates I've jumped at it. It has quickly gotten out of hand.

It's been one of the most daunting tasks I've ever faced, second only to coping with my newfound heart condition. I never had that many buddies at my old school, so trying to juggle a myriad of burgeoning friendships at once is more emotionally taxing than I could have ever anticipated. It's borderline torture.

I know that I should be grateful for the company, especially when said company mostly consists of beautiful girls, but when you become friends with someone, it's like signing a contract of sorts. An unspoken agreement to spend a certain amount of time with them and to assist them with any problems or baggage they might have. Sounds easy enough, but it gets complicated when you're dealing with an entire roster of disabled women. I'm being run ragged. Just thinking about my average day is enough to kick start a headache.

I wake up early every morning to meet with my running partner. She can be a tad overbearing, but she's nice enough. Once I've completed my laps I head over to the nurse's office at his behest so he can monitor my condition. It's hard not to view this as a chore, even though it's for my own benefit.

The school day then commences proper and I go about attending my classes. My science teacher has taken a special interest in me and has given several not-so-subtle hints that science is a field I should pursue after graduating, even though I haven't even been here a week yet. I suppose he was particularly impressed with how rapidly I've caught up with the rest of the class, and the ease with which I tend to finish assignments. It's flattering, but I haven't made any decisions yet and his insistence in the matter is very grating.

Throughout my various classes I'm constantly pestered by the only two members of the Student Council, as they remain steadfast in their quest to recruit me into their freaky cult. I've made my reluctance no secret, but they insist on trying to persuade me anyway. They're like rabid pit bulls with blue and pink fur, respectively. Also, one of the dogs has drills for ears.

I get a small break at lunchtime, when I usually eat with two quiet and more reserved girls in a room that rarely sees use otherwise. They're both a pleasure to sit with, though one of the pair is so anxious around me that I can't help but feel as if I'm not truly welcome there. I don't mean to impose, but I despise eating in the cafeteria with the rest of the herd, so I hope she doesn't mind too much.

After finishing up my afternoon classes, I head back to the dorm for the night, but usually get seized along the way by an eccentric, armless painter from the art club. She asks for my help with fetching and mixing her paints while she works on her mural for the upcoming school festival. Half of my time with her is spent mixing, while the other half is spent attempting to decipher the nonsense that comes out of her mouth. It's as if she speaks in hieroglyphs.

When I do finally manage to retire to my room, I have a couple hours left to catch up on any homework I may have, and what little time I have left to myself is robbed by my neighbour kicking my door down to see if 'they' have wiretapped my room or not.

I live for the moments when I manage to slip away from my responsibilities and read a chapter or two of a good book. However, like any good thing, my time with my books is rare and brief. People say that escapism is unhealthy, but it's one of the only things keeping me sane.

Even my dreams aren't my own. What should be my time to recuperate is often plagued by nightmares of snowy forests and infinite, sterile white hallways that reek of chemicals and desperation.

I should be thrilled that so many people are willing to spend time with me. I just never thought it would involve so much… work. I'm running on fumes 24/7. It's like someone has strapped two bandoliers equipped with dozens of Tamagotchis across my chest and expects me to keep all of my little digital pets alive. What a mess.

I just want people to like me for once. No matter what it takes.

As I move from the grass onto the smooth, synthetic surface of the school's running track, I spot a familiar figure near the bleachers bouncing up and down on her prosthetics impatiently.

Emi Ibarazaki. 'The fastest thing on no legs.' Star of the school's track team. A diminutive, bubbly girl with bright green eyes and strawberry-blonde hair that's been styled into twintails. She can more often than not be seen in her running attire, which consists of a pink t-shirt and a pair of dangerously revealing red bloomers. It makes me feel rude admitting it, but her most striking feature is her legs, or lack thereof. I haven't asked her how she lost them. If she wanted me to know she would tell me.

It would be hypocritical of me to judge her for keeping her cards close to her chest. I've been equally hesitant to let people know about my arrhythmia.

Despite her situation, her impairment definitely hasn't done much to slow her down, figuratively or literally. I admire her resolve. I wish it were possible to siphon some of her energy for my own usage, seeing as she has plenty to spare. Come to think of it… wanting to absorb the energy out of someone is oddly reminiscent of something Kenji told me recently. During one of his late night visits, he had tried to convince me that women were able to suck out a man's life-force.

Is that why I'm so miserable and exhausted? Have I been infected by the femini— _NO_. Absolutely not. Stop that right now, me.

I swiftly drive away the greasy-haired, Coke-bottle glasses wearing gremlin that had momentarily infiltrated my thoughts as I approach Emi.

"Good morning, Emi," I say with as much joviality as I can hope to muster.

"May as well be good afternoon with how late you are, Hisao. And here I thought you enjoyed spending time with me," she throws back at me, masking herself in one her most lethal, signature puppy-dog pouts that I've yet to witness. It makes me want to donate money to a local animal shelter whenever she subjects me to it.

I'm taken aback for a moment. If nothing else, I pride myself on my punctuality. Surely she must be overreacting.

A quick glance down at my watch confirms my suspicions.

"I'm only four minutes late, Emi."

"That's four minutes you should have been running, Hisao. Maybe if you had run here we wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place," she retorts, sporting a menacing grin.

"We're in a predicament now? Over losing four minutes?" I ask, looking at her inquisitively to gauge whether or not she's being serious. It's hard to tell with her because she uses the same smile when she's being mischievous and when she's really pissed. Neither option is good, but I would still prefer the former.

She looks back at me through half-lidded eyes. "You're doing two extra laps today," her smile twists a bit further up on either side before continuing, "and you'd better win me something nice at the festival tomorrow."

At this, she can't keep up the intimidating façade anymore and bursts out laughing. I would probably join in if not for the fact that what she just said to me has sent a chill down my spine. It completely slipped my mind that the festival was tomorrow. I got so caught up in everything that I had forgotten when it was actually taking place, despite having assisted with multiple facets of it.

Hanako and I helped decorate the stall for Lilly's class, along with Kenji. Additionally, Emi and I have both been helping Rin so that she can complete her mural on time. On top of all that, I've been roped into doing all kinds of busywork surrounding the festival on the Student Council's behalf.

Yet I'm too absentminded to remember when the date of the event is. I'm an idiot. Maybe I have undiagnosed brain damage on top of the bum heart.

Who am I supposed to attend it with? Do any of the girls expect me to go with them? Do _all_ of the girls expect me to go with them? Does _Kenji_ expect me to go with _him_? I'm going to throw up. I don't want Emi to see. Throwing up in front of someone is very intimate, like losing your virginity or telling them that you love them. The relationship is never the same. I'm not ready for that kind of commitment.

As I'm contemplating whether it's more polite to vomit on the track itself or the grass next to it, for the custodian's sake, Emi interrupts my thoughts.

"Hisao, are you alright? You're sweating bullets and we haven't even started running yet," she says as she takes a closer look at me, "Your face is all pale too. I might be strict about your training, but if you're not feeling well maybe you should go see the nurse ahead of time," Emi offers sympathetically.

She's right. Allowing me to skip our run together is extremely uncharacteristic of her, but she seems to take my wellbeing very seriously, judging by the genuinely troubled expression on her face. I must look awful. I can feel my hair matted against my forehead, which is probably sufficient evidence to back up that claim.

"Th-Thanks, Emi. I ju— uh, I'm not doing so hot right now. I think I will go see the Nurse. Thank you for understanding. I'll try to at least jog over to his office so that I can say I got some exercise in," I answer apologetically.

Before she can even respond I'm already jogging away in the opposite direction. I don't actually want the exercise; this is just an excuse to flee this horribly awkward encounter as fast my legs will let me.

I manage to get quite far before I hear Emi's now distant voice shouting back at me—

"HISAO, YOU FORGOT YOUR WATER BOTTLE!"

"IT'S ALRIGHT! YOU CAN KEEP IT!"

"WELL, FEEL BETTER! OKAY?!"

"YOU TOO!" You too? What is wrong with me?

"MAYBE I'LL SEE YOU AT THE FESTIVAL TOMORROW?!"

My mouth seemingly can't choose between 'yeah,' 'nah,' or a more casual, laid-back 'eh' in response. So instead, I end up screaming a strange combination of the three.

"NAHYEUGH!"

I turn the corner, leaving my brief spell of mental retardation behind me and the track out of sight. There's nobody else around, so I take this opportunity to empty my stomach into a nearby garbage bin before slumping down against the wall adjacent to it. My heart is racing and stumbling all over itself. I instinctively close my eyes and grab at my chest with my right hand. I've learned that the best thing to do in these situations is to try and remain calm and focus on my breathing. Like being pregnant, but instead of trying to birth a life, I'm trying to _stay_ alive.

After a moment or two, the sharp pangs of pain in my chest slowly start to subside and the prickly needlelike sensation in my left arm goes away.

Once my heart rate evens out and I calm down physically, my brain picks up the slack on causing me pain and my mind begins racing once more with concerns pertaining to the festival tomorrow. I should worry while I walk though. Places to go, people to see and all that. Using the wall for support, I pick myself up, dust myself off and reluctantly commence my march over to the Nurse's office.

* * *

As I'm walking over to meet with the Nurse, I realize that if he were to see me in this state, he might chastise me for not taking better care of myself.

Seeing as I'm early for my appointment anyway, I decide to dip back into the boys' dormitory to regain my composure first. More students are awake and going about their business now. As I'm hurriedly walking through the halls on my way to the common room, I occasionally brush shoulders with some of the dozens of nameless faces travelling alongside me. I think at one point somebody had called my name out, but I don't know if I imagined that or not.

It's all too much.

I'm going to see all of these people countless times throughout the duration of my stay here, yet I'll only end up speaking with a small selection of them. The rest will forever remain extras in the unfortunate story of my life. What if one of them is supposed to be something more to me? What if I'm associating with the wrong people? What if one of these spectres wandering around in my peripheral vision could be a kindred spirit to me and I don't know it? How are you supposed to know who you're meant to be friends with?

I finally make it to the common room and immediately start boiling some water so that I can prepare myself a cup of coffee. They only have the instant stuff here, but it's better than nothing. It'll at least taste better than the lingering taste of puke in my mouth from before. Slightly.

I'm a bit too eager and almost chug the entire thing in one go, burning my tongue and throat in the process. The pain is jarring enough to make me break out into a coughing fit, earning some concerned stares from several boys across the room.

I attempt to wave it off nonchalantly while I pour myself another cup. Two cups of coffee already, and I don't intend for it to be my last today. Granted, it likely isn't very wise to consume this much caffeine given my condition. Every drop that slides down my gullet is probably shaving days off of my lifespan. That being said, it's helping me keep my nervousness in check, so it's a compromise I'm willing to make at the moment. Still, I should try not to make a habit of it.

Feeling considerably more relaxed, I head back out and resume my trip to the Nurse's office.

Five minutes pass before I find myself in front of his door. I take a second to clear my head before knocking.

"Come on in!" a muffled voice says from the other side.

I go inside the room and close the door behind me. The purple-haired man in front of me had been sitting at his desk with his legs crossed, but he spins around in his swivel chair to face me once he hears me enter.

I dislike doctors, but something about the Nurse is different. The goofy smile on his face is the polar opposite of the stern expressions I've come to associate with medical staff. He's just an all-around amiable, sincere person, even though he can get irritating with the never-ending jokes at my expense. It's his way of lightening the mood though, and I do appreciate the effort.

It's a good skill to have when you're dealing with the impaired and dying. Tough crowd, I imagine.

"Why hello, Hisao. How are we doing today?" he asks, grinning his usual grin.

"Ah, you know, surviving," I respond, trying to reciprocate with a smile of my own.

"I should hope so. Anyway, you know the drill. Shirt off, if you would."

I oblige and toss my shirt onto an empty chair to my right.

He eyes my scar momentarily. A jagged, dark crimson gash in the middle of my chest from when they had to open me up for my emergency surgery following my attack. I've been told that it will fade with time, but never entirely. A grim reminder of my feeble state. It still itches now and then.

He rubs the end of his stethoscope between his hands to warm it up and gets to work, holding it against my chest and my back, listening intently for any irregularities. Unluckily for me, I can see his trademark smile falter.

"Are you sure you've been doing alright, Hisao? Has Emi been pushing you too much? You need to be completely honest with me if you expect me to help," he says scoldingly.

"It's not anything like that, sir. I've just… been a bit stressed out is all."

He wags his finger at me. "That simply won't do. You need to be wary of your stress levels. It's the biggest contributing factor to heart complications these days."

He's told me this before, and I found it just as frustrating then as I do now. Where does he get off ordering me to stop being stressed, as if I actively choose to be? If anything, it just makes me even more anxious because I start stressing out _about_ stressing out. It's a vicious circle that's impossible to escape from, and he's offered me no solution.

I think he senses my change in mood and his face softens once more.

"Look, I know this is all still new to you. I know how trying these kinds of circumstances can be. Just do your best, alright? It's all any of us can do. Whenever things start getting to you, just focus on your breathing like we spoke about the other day."

I nod solemnly. The breathing did help with my incident earlier at the track.

He sighs and reclines back into his chair, kicking his feet up on his desk. "You do look tired though. Have you eaten yet today? Breakfast is the most important meal, after all."

"I wasn't really hungry, but I had an apple before I left this morning." I feel kind of bad for being such a downer, so I try to continue on with a joke of my own. I think he'd appreciate that. "I was told having an apple a day might keep you away from me, but here we are"

He does indeed visibly brighten at this. I'm glad. "Oh, it will take more than an apple to get rid of me. You're going to want something more substantial, like a restraining order, or a bullet." He chuckles lightly. "Seriously though, please keep your diet in mind. A handsome young man such as yourself needs all the energy he can get," he says, winking at me.

" 'Handsome'? Isn't that an inappropriate thing to say to a student?"

"Don't get any funny ideas, Nakai. You're not my type," he pauses, "Besides, I could never steal you away from Mutou. I see the way he looks at you. It would be wrong to encroach on my colleague's territory like that."

Oh god, not this again. "Please don't," I plead in vain.

"I _wish_ I could get a woman to look at me the way your science teacher looks at you, Hisao."

"That's quite enough, sir."

"He talks about you, you know. In his free time. Off the clock. It makes me very uncomfortable, but it's not my place to interfere with true love"

"What have I done to you to deserve this?"

"You should take things slower with him than you have with me though. I've only known you a few days and I already got your shirt off. Makes you seem easy, y'know?"

Cracking a joke at him was a mistake. Once he gets rolling he can't stop himself. He's relentless.

"This is all very unprofessional, sir."

At this, his voice raises several octaves, into an almost girlish squeak, "But, sir, am I not your model student? Why could you possibly want to see little old me after class?" Now his voice shifts into a disturbingly accurate impression of Mutou, "Your grades are stellar, Nakai, but you've been a very, very bad boy and you need to be puni—"

I really don't want to hear the rest of this bit so I plug my ears with my index fingers and turn to leave the room.

As I take one finger out to twist the doorknob and make my escape I hear a crisp crunching sound and turn around to investigate.

The nurse has produced an apple from somewhere and has taken a large bite out of it. His other hand is outstretched toward me, holding a piece of paper. I take it from him and inspect it. After quickly scanning the rectangular slip I'm shocked to see that it's a note excusing me from my classes for the day. I look back up at him, one eyebrow raised.

"You need the rest, kiddo. Doctor's orders. Besides, it's the least I can do to pay you back for entertaining me," he states as he winks once more.

A wave of gratitude washes over me and I breathe a sigh of relief. I thank him profusely and we say our goodbyes. This is exactly what I needed. If I can just get a few hours of privacy to think things over I may be able to salvage my plans for the festival tomorrow.

However, the exchange I had to endure to get the time off was still mortifying. I won't be able to look Mutou in the eyes for a while.

If the Nurse is impervious to apples maybe I should try oranges next.

First period has already started, so I don't need to worry about playing bumper cripples on the way back to my room like I normally do. I swear, you'd figure that in a school for the disabled, people would be more mindful of personal space. I already have several bruises on my shins from the occasional stray cane or wheelchair. Not to mention that one time Emi nearly made my chest explode after accidentally tackling me to the ground like an adorable little offensive lineman.

Much to my surprise, even though class is already in session, I can hear footsteps echoing from around the corner. A teacher maybe? As I make the turn to proceed on my way to the dormitories I'm shocked by whom the sounds belonged to, and she seems appears equally surprised to see me.

Violet eyes, matching her dark purple hair which helps to hide the severe burn scars on the right side of her face. She's wearing an expression one might expect from a person being sentenced to death by firing squad. It's hard to mistake Hanako Ikezawa for anybody else.

Now that I think of it, it isn't really that strange to find her out here, seeing as she is almost always late to class. I've never caught her in the act before though. I'm not sure how to proceed; I don't want to scare her off.

She's a very sweet girl from what I can tell, but one small misstep with her and she runs away so fast she may as well be able to teleport. If someone were to spook her while she was on the track, she might even be able to beat Emi's personal records.

I'll just keep this simple for her sake, a fast greeting and then I'll be on my way.

"Good morning Hanako," I say, giving her a slight wave.

"G-Good m-morning, Hisao," she responds through her usual stammer, though her face suggests that she's unsure why I'm not in class.

The fact that she audibly responded at all was more than I had expected of her. Despite seeing her at lunch every day, we haven't spoken much. On my first day here, I had decided to check out the school library, and wound up sitting next to her as I flipped through a small novel I had picked up. Even then, we nearly sat in total silence except for a few pleasantries.

I tried to spark up more of a casual chat and she ended up sprinting away from me in response. Needless to say, I learned my lesson and it seems to have paid off, seeing as she isn't trying to run away from me right now.

Maybe if I continue to speak to her in brief sentences I can gradually ease her into more regular conversations. She seems to be most relaxed when we play the occasional game of chess during lunch, that would probably be the best time to try it out. That can wait until after the festival though. Hanako is the only one I'm pretty certain doesn't want to hang out with me tomorrow. I doubt she'll be at the festival at all, honestly.

One day I'd like to understand her. I don't know the details, but I can easily assume Hanako's past is far more traumatic than my own. Even so, in an odd way I feel like I can relate to her. Hanako might be the only one I know who is more troubled mentally than I am right now. It may be messed up to think so, but it's nice to know that I'm not the only one struggling. Misery likes company I suppose.

I give her a short nod farewell as I pass by her. I can feel my room beckoning me. The Nurse and Hanako were nice distractions, but I need to figure out what I'm going to do tomorrow.

If I don't come up with a plan I may go from having too many friends, to having no friends at all.

* * *

My eyes rapidly move along the page. I'm reading the words, but I'm not really taking them in. I can't even really recall what happened the past few chapters. Books had helped me a lot during my stay at the hospital following my surgery. They kept me distracted and broke up the monotony of lying in my bed all day.

It's not helping now though, and that really sucks. You know you're in a bad way when your most treasured hobby does nothing to comfort you. I may as well give up on reading for tonight. I'm not giving this novel the attention it deserves.

I shut the book closed in frustration before hopping off of my bed and walking over to my desk. After storing the book away in the drawer, my eyes are drawn to the only other contents inside. A picture frame, containing a photo of myself and my parents at the beach from two years ago. I had stuffed the picture in my desk because seeing my bare chest with no unsightly scar on it was pretty depressing.

The memories of that day help lift my spirits a bit, and I feel myself smiling. It wasn't often that we all got to do something together. Both of my parents are very career oriented and never spent too much time at home. I was mostly left to fend for myself growing up, but it wasn't for lack of trying on my parents' parts. They tried their hardest to be there for me whenever they could; they just couldn't most of the time is all. I don't hold it against them, even though it did get lonely sometimes.

My father gave me this photo the day I was dropped off at Yamaku. He got a little glassy-eyed when he handed it over, he always was a softy. The good cop to my mom's bad cop.

I take the photo out of its frame and flip it around in order to look at the backside. My father had written down both his and my mother's cell phone numbers, in addition to an email address that they both share. I think they made it just so we could exchange messages while I'm away from home. A kind gesture, probably his idea.

For a moment I seriously consider taking them up on the offer and calling one of them. If there's anyone that could help me figure out a solution to my predicament it would be them.

I can't do that to them though. I can tell that they're already worried about me as is. I'm on thin ice from a physical standpoint, if they heard what an emotional wreck I am as well they would freak out.

For some reason, as dozens of thoughts bounce around my brain, the image my mind stops on is Lilly Satou.

Lilly is a fascinating person. From what I can tell, she's Hanako's only friend here. Doesn't take a genius to see why, if I was a burn victim I would naturally gravitate to a blind person as well. That's the thing though, I feel like even if Lilly could see, she and Hanako might still be pals. Lilly has an unfaltering air of kindness about her, I doubt Hanako's scars would do much to deter her.

I don't know why I'm thinking about her now though. She can't exactly help me when she's a part of the issue.

Not that I would be opposed to spending the day of the festival with her, she's very pretty after all. Really tall for a woman, with fair skin and wavy blonde hair. Her clouded blue eyes serve as the only physical indicator of her condition. Her half-Scottish genes do a lot to set her apart from the crowd around here, as does her more modest fashion sense. She pulls her hair back into a ponytail with a large black ribbon, and her skirts go far below her knees. I've also noticed that she wears a cross around her neck.

Lilly had been raised Christian, I guess. Imagining her praying at her bedside is pretty amusing. For the most part, people in Japan aren't religious, myself included, but there are shrines here and there. Most people visit them due to tradition though, not so much for spiritual reasons. I guess Christians don't need shrines to pray though; they can just do that whenever they need to.

Hmm. Maybe I…

…No, I'm not doing that. That's ridiculous. I'm a man of science and I know better than to waste my time with such things.

Then again, scientific method states that I need to test my theory before I can prove it. There's no harm in giving it one try, I have nothing to lose. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Besides, nobody will ever know I tried this nonsense.

I don't know how you're supposed to do it though; I've only ever seen this done in foreign movies. I start by kneeling down and resting my elbows on my bed, clasping my hands in front of me and closing my eyes shut.

I feel ridiculous. Whatever, I've already gone this far so I may as well follow through.

"Uh, hello?" Good start, I would hope if there is a god that he wouldn't mind my social awkwardness.

"I need some help. Is it a problem that I'm Japanese? Is this just a white person thing? I'm friends with Lilly, if you take referrals. I just… I have nobody to speak with, so I was hoping that you could be of some assistance. Plus, you kind of owe me one for the whole heart thing.

"Obviously you won't answer back. That's your gimmick or whatever, I know. I just need _some_ form of guidance. Send a wise man my way or something. That's part of the story, right? I just need someone to bounce some ideas off of, spitball some ways to dig myself out of this hole that I'm in. You know, like an impartial third party. Someone with experience in these matters. Someone smart. Someone who knows how to deal with peopl—"

My last-ditch plea to thin air is cut short as a loud banging sound emanates from the door of my room. You've got to be kidding me, this can't be right. I nervously inch my way over, knees threatening to buckle beneath me. My hand grips the doorknob tightly, knuckles turning white from the pressure. I'm scared to open the door. I never thought my beliefs on religion would be disproven so blatantly. I begin to question everything I had come to accept about the univer—

BANG.

In the middle of my epiphany, the door flies open and cracks against my skull. My vision goes blurry and I reel back in pain. I take a second to check whether or not my heart is fine, and it is, but damn does my forehead hurt. I shake my head from side to side in an attempt to focus my eyes so that I can get a good look at my saviour.

That's when a strong waft of garlic and aged milk hits my nostrils.

"Hey man, I heard you talking to someone in here and wanted to make sure you weren't being robbed," greets my bespectacled assailant.

Okay, now I definitely don't believe in God. No higher power would do this to me. Welcome back atheism, I missed you.

"You really need to learn to lock your door, man. If you don't, any nutjob could just barge in willy-nilly," he warns me, tossing his red-and-yellow striped scarf back over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I can see that!" I exclaim, unable to hide the anger in my voice.

He looks a bit hurt with the tone I've taken with him. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright, bro. No need to get your ovaries in a twist. Besides, home security is no joke. What if it wasn't me? What if I was some broad here to murder you or steal your socks or something?"

"Well, if they try my door and see that it's open, they'll figure that there isn't anything worthwhile inside. Meanwhile, they try out your door afterwards and notice that there's like twelve locks on it. They'll be far more interested in your room and you'll be the one having your socks murdered or whatever." I've found that if I play along and double down on Kenji's insane ramblings when responding to him, it makes him shut up most of the time. Fight fire with fire.

Even through his thick, round glasses I can see his eyes shoot wide open and his jaw drops.

"Oh shit. You're right, I don't know what I was thinking." He sighs, resting his forehead against his palm. "You're a lifesaver, Hisao. As soon as I get back to my room I'm going to remove _ALL_ of the locks. I'm also going to sleep with the door wide open from now on. I'll be the least suspect person here. Totally incognito."

That's a horrible idea, but I don't dare continue this conversation. I walk back a few steps and sit on the edge of my bed.

That's when an idea hits me. I'll never get any worthwhile advice out of Kenji if I ask him which girl I should make plans with at the festival, but maybe if I were to speak his language…

"Hey, Kenji, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, dude. Anytime."

"Hypothetically, let's say this war that you're worried about finally breaks out. You're in a sniper's nest, rifle in hand when you spot six enemies on the horizon. They're all equally dangerous to you. In that situation how do you pick which one to shoot?" I inquire, hoping he doesn't catch onto the real meaning of this scenario.

"Huh? Isn't it obvious?"

I wish it was, Kenji. "No, that's why I'm asking."

"You just shoot the first one you see," he declares, pointing his index finger at me, miming his finger pulling a trigger.

I lean back on my elbows to consider his response. It actually does make a lot of sense. I haven't confirmed with any of the girls that I'd be going with them to the festival tomorrow. I could just go alone and walk around until I run into one of them; the first one that I spot would be the one I approach. I would be completely blameless. All of the burden of choosing is taken off my shoulders and left up to fate instead. It's perfect.

Kenji would be a genius if he wasn't so stupid.

In an effort to show my gratitude I give him a firm clap on the shoulder and smile at him. "Thank you, Kenji. You've actually been a great help."

"Oh. Uh, I don't really understand, but I'm glad, man," he responds, returning the gesture with an even harder clap on my shoulder.

He really isn't so bad. I hate to admit it, but I kind of like the guy, despite his eccentricities. Maybe I should ask him if he wants to do something after the festival tomorrow. What's the worst that could happen?

"Say, after all the excitement dies down tomorrow, do you want to hang out for a little while and wind down?"

"Excitement? What excitement?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow at me.

"The festival? Don't you need to be there for your class's booth—"

"THE FESTIVAL IS TOMORROW?! WHY DIDN'T YOU WARN ME SOONER?! I NEED TO GO PREP MY FORTIFICATIONS!"

"Wha—"

"NO TIME! I'LL SEE YOU MONDAY!"

Before I can protest, he spins on his heels and dives forward, somersaulting to my open doorway. He sticks his head around the edge and looks down both ends of the hall before turning his head and shooting one last quick nod to me. I give him a confused, halfhearted wave in response and he dashes out of sight.

I can hear his clumsy footsteps thundering down the hall, but they're punctuated by an abrupt, echoing thud and a high-pitched, ear-piercing shriek of pain. He must have run into a first-year girl or something. I don't know what a girl would be doing in the boys' dorm this late at night though. I'd better go check to see if she's okay.

I exit my room and I'm embarrassed to discover that the wailing was, in fact, coming from Kenji himself, who had tripped and fallen down in his rush to escape to his room. If he screamed any higher, only dogs would be able to hear him. I try not to judge though; very few people have flattering screams of agony.

I make my way over to pick him up and help him back to his room, it's the least I could do in return for his shockingly sage advice. For the first time since coming to Yamaku I have something to look forward to.

Maybe tomorrow will actually end up being fun.

* * *

 ** _Author's Notes:_** Huge thank you to SLotH4 for reading through the story and editing spelling and grammar. Make sure to check him out!


	2. Of Mice and Miyagi

_Part 2: 'Of Mice and Miyagi'_

* * *

What do you even wear to things like this?

Rummaging through my drawers, I pick out random articles of clothing to hold them up and look them over. A lot of students like to complain about dress codes and uniforms, but frankly, I appreciate them. You have five pairs of the exact same outfit, one for each day of the school week. Then you wash all of it on the weekend and the cycle continues. No real thought or fashion sense required, totally efficient. I can't imagine having to figure out something different to wear each day of my life. That's one part of adulthood I'm not looking forward to. Hopefully I wind up at a job that requires me to wear suits or something.

I stop to consider a pair of maroon corduroy trousers. Not to wear them, mind you. God no. More to question what the hell my mom was thinking when she got me these. I would throw them in the trash, but I'm afraid that it would hurt her feelings if she ever found out. Still, I make a point to place them at the very bottom of my drawer when I put them back. They might be haunted by the ghost of a previous owner, who was likely a child molester given his choice of attire, so we'll all be safer if I tuck them away forever.

Wow, this is tough. You wear something too formal and you're a weirdo, you wear something too casual and you're a slob. I'm starting to see why girls complain about this kind of thing. At least I don't have to worry about makeup or menstruating.

After twenty minutes of indecision, I finally settle on a pair of khakis and a white t-shirt. Can't go wrong with that. I'd rather play things safe than make a fool of myself. I've been doing enough of that lately as is. I can't help wincing at the memory of my encounter with Emi on the track yesterday morning.

Now that I think about it, if I intend to stay out late tonight it'll probably get pretty chilly come nightfall. I haven't finished unpacking my things yet and I think all of my jackets and coats were lumped together in the box containing my winter apparel, so I decide to just throw on my green school blazer instead.

Still feeling a bit hesitant about venturing out, I go back to the bathroom one last time to make sure that I'm presentable. Looking at myself in the mirror above the sink, I notice that I'm wearing the same expression that Hanako was during our impromptu meeting in the hallway yesterday. The kind of look that suggests I might piss myself if someone sneezes too loudly. Whatever, I look as good as I'm ever going to. I just need to bite the bullet and force myself to leave the safety of my room. On my way out of the bathroom I glance one last time at the mirror.

I point my finger at the boy staring back at me. He mimics my movements, how childish of him. "Please don't embarrass us today, Hisao."

I really need to stop tempting fate like that, one of these days my friend in the mirror might actually respond and then I'll have to shell out the money needed to see a psychiatrist. Maybe I can go with Hanako and we can get a group discount.

I look around my room once more. I need to get going. My fingers tap against my bedroom door for around thirty seconds, unwilling to proceed. My mind knows this, but my legs refuse to listen. Between this and my heart attack, my body has gotten awfully rebellious lately.

Thinking back to yesterday night helps me calm down. There's no need to worry anymore, I have a strategy now. The first of my new friends that I run in to will be the unlucky lady who wins an evening with yours truly. If the first person I happen upon already has plans, I'll keep walking around until I find someone else. If all of them turn out to be busy then I'll just crawl back here with my tail between my legs and wash my hands of this whole thing.

Without giving myself time to reconsider, I violently pull the door open and force myself out into the hallway. You need to be quick about these things, like ripping off a band-aid. The first step is always the hardest.

Seeing as Kenji has decided to barricade himself in his 'bunker' for the day, I don't feel the need to tiptoe by his room like I usually do. As I move past his door I can hear a very loud, rhythmic, metallic pounding and the occasional drill whirring coming from inside. I don't even want to know. If he turns out to be building a death ray, hopefully he remembers that I was nice to him.

The closer I get to the exit of the dormitory, the louder the sounds from outside become. As I understand it, these events aren't exclusively for the students at the academy. Family members and people from the nearby town are also encouraged to partake in the festivities.

I knew it was a long shot, but I tried calling my folks before I went to bed last night to see if they would want to come down and visit for a few hours. Went straight to voicemail. It's mostly my fault; I know how busy they are. If I wanted them to come I should have thought to call sooner. Still, I miss them.

My thoughts about my home life are soon forcefully pushed aside as I open the door to the school grounds and all of my senses get assaulted at once. Between the roar of the crowd, the music playing in the background, the sudden exposure to the sun and all of the colourful decorations, it feels as if I've gone blind and deaf. At least all of the different food smells nice.

My squinted eyes gradually open back up as I become acclimated to my new environment. Once I get my first proper look around, it's hard not to be impressed. Yamaku really goes all out with this stuff. I feel a small sense of pride knowing that I helped put this whole thing together. I didn't do that much in the grand scheme of things, but I did work tirelessly for five days despite having only just transferred here. That has to count for something.

The optimist in me sees this festival as a celebration of what can be accomplished when young adults learn to rise above their physical shortcomings. The pessimist in me sees it as the academy overcompensating and trying to show the able-bodied world at large that crippled kids aren't totally worthless. The realist in me should probably accept that both of those statements are true.

As I descend down the stairs into the main area where everything is set up, I notice that Rin isn't stationed at her mural like I had assumed she would be. It really did turn out nicely. I don't understand a lick of it, but maybe it's not my place to.

All of the credit obviously goes to her for having the ability to bring it to life, but it still feels kind of cool knowing that I helped mix most of the paint for it. I'll be sure to tell her that she did a great job the next time I see her. Provided I can keep her attention for more than one minute of course.

I lift my heels off the ground, standing up on the balls of my feet, craning my head up to look over the sea of heads, keeping an eye out for any of my targets. Nobody yet.

However, there are a few classmates that I recognize. They're all sitting together under the shade of a nearby tree. I'm not good with names, but I'm still familiar with them. In the semicircle of people I can see 'Brown Emi,' 'Sleepyhead,' 'Stump Girl,' 'Pretentious Beret Guy,' and 'Round Fellow.' It looks like they're having a blast. They make hanging out look so effortless; I wish I could be like that. The mental hoops I had to jump through just to make myself come here in the first place are embarrassing.

There's no use in beating myself up over that now, I'm here and that's what matters. I had thought that I would have run into somebody by now though, I'm starting to get antsy. I feel sort of claustrophobic, alone in the crowd like this. While I'm trying to track down my prey, I may as well keep myself occupied. It is a party after all, it's not as if there's a lack of activities to participate in, even if I'm by myself.

I try my hand at a few of the games that have been set up. Unfortunately, I walk away emptyhanded, except for a few participation prizes such as rubber wristbands or cheap phone charms. I would have liked to have won something nice, like a t-shirt, a poster, or a stuffed animal, but my hand-eye coordination is terrible.

Even before my arrhythmia reared its ugly head, I was never really an athletic person. I played a game of soccer here and there with my old friends, but I never cared that much about the game itself. Emi had jokingly asked me to win her something nice today, but she'd probably have to be the one to win _me_ something, honestly.

I'm not too surprised that I haven't spotted Emi yet. She's the easiest one to miss given the fact that I'm certain she's on the brink of being legally considered a dwarf. She gets upset when I tease her around about her height, but I don't understand that. If you dislike being short why not just buy prosthetics that are a few inches longer?

Having accepted my defeat with the games, I make my way over to the section where you can buy food and drinks.

The first booth that I pass by is the one that's been set up by Lilly's class, but she's not there presently. Much like Rin, Lilly is not where I had expected her to be. I'm starting to think that these people are actively trying to avoid me.

Whatever, there's no line and I'm pretty thirsty, so I move to the counter and buy myself a canned coffee from the girl who is manning the register.

I crack open the tab on the can and take a large swig, mentally apologizing to my heart in the process. It's for the greater good, little guy, I swear. Take one for the team.

I find it impressive that the blind class operates their booth so efficiently. Is that condescending of me? Is it wrong to think that somebody is performing well 'for a blind person'? If I were in their shoes, I certainly wouldn't wan—

My musings are cut off by several gasps and one loud shriek of terror. The sudden noise startles me so much that I almost drop my drink, but I manage to retain my grip on the can and avoid spilling anything. Like many others nearby, I begin frantically looking around to try and find the source of all the commotion.

It doesn't take long to pinpoint the disturbance, as a large crowd of people, consisting of both students and adults, has formed a tight circle not far away from me. Nobody is screaming anymore, but there is a lot of nervous chattering going on as people awkwardly look around for help. I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but it's safe to assume that one of the students has succumbed to whatever condition brought them to this school. I'm tempted to get a closer look myself, but I don't want to get in anybody's way.

As I lean against a nearby light post, I listen intently to the goings-on, taking the occasional sip of coffee. I feel bad for whoever is in trouble. That could easily be any one of us, especially people like me where our issue is internal.

Man, that really could be me. Is this how Iwanako felt? No, she probably felt even worse because we were all alone on that fateful day last winter.

Good thing I've been keeping up with Emi's training, even if I hate running. Maybe if I keep at it I can avoid ending up like the person on the ground right now. At least, I assume that they're on the ground; I still can't see them through all of the onlookers huddling around them.

It only takes around two minutes before I see a pair of nurses from the medical wing of the school rushing in with emergency kits and a foldable wheelchair. There's one woman with her hair up in a tight bun and a bearded, bald man with half-moon glasses. Both are clad in the typical long white coats that I always see the school nurses wearing.

Two minutes is a pretty decent response time, but they're probably used to this kind of thing by now. The nurse that I'm familiar with isn't among them; maybe his job is just to perform checkups.

They both worm their way through the crowd, politely but firmly moving several people out of their way. A minute passes before the bald one puts his hand up to get everybody's attention.

"There is no need to worry, everyone. This young man is going to be perfectly fine in a few hours. He has hypoglycemia and simply passed out due to low blood sugar. His friend here was kind enough to catch him on the way down, so he doesn't have a scratch on him. I have administered a glucagon shot and he'll be right as rain very soon. So please, don't let this put a damper on your time here today," he proclaims, not screaming, but speaking loudly enough to make sure everyone in the immediate vicinity can hear him.

He probably doesn't like speaking so candidly about the boy's condition, but there were bound to be dozens of questions from concerned parents if he didn't explain the situation, so I think he made the right call.

"Now, please clear the way so that we can bring him back inside to rest."

People promptly do as the nurse requested and allow the three of them to pass. The male nurse carefully props the boy up in the wheelchair and they slowly wheel him back toward the entrance of the school. I let out a sigh of relief, I'm no saint, but I still hate seeing people hurt. The kid looked about two years younger than me, I'm glad he's going to be alright. I always thought diabetes was somewhat tame as far as medical conditions go, but evidently that isn't the case.

The crowd slowly starts to disperse as the excitement dies down, but as the mess of people starts to clear out, I see something that makes my breath catch in my throat and my heart skip a beat. Kenji had not prepared me for this.

Among the few stragglers still standing where the boy had collapsed, I see them. Rin and Emi. They're both facing away from me, but it's still obviously them, they're easily identifiable due to their missing limbs. I hadn't anticipated some of them being in the same spot. Which one did I see first though? Oh god, I can't remember. Maybe they're hanging out together today? Maybe I can ask to join them? No, that's weird. They'll think I'm creepy for asking. The three of us have spent time together working on the mural, but that was work, this is different. I can't butt in on something I wasn't invited to.

Okay, calm down. This is fine. They haven't seen me yet, so I'll just back away slowly and reassess my options.

I quickly pivot a hundred and eighty degrees to face the opposite direction and head back the way I came, but after a few steps I'm forced to stop dead in my tracks. This can't be happening.

Lilly is behind the counter of her stall now, facing directly toward me. Not that it means much, given her visual impairment, but the fact that her eyes are seemingly focused on me almost makes me doubt her blindness for a moment.

If she had been alone this would have been ideal, but she isn't alone. Standing between myself and Lilly, I spot a distinctive mass of pink hair, which has been painstakingly shaped into drill-like curls on either side of her head. Her and her better half are rarely parted, and today is no exception. To the right of Misha, my class representative and head of the Student Council, Shizune, is furiously signing at Lilly while her counterpart interprets her movements.

I established last night that God isn't real, but I think Satan might be. That's the only way to explain this. I can't even begin to fathom the odds of this occurring. Why can't anything ever go my way?

My heart is pounding; I look down and swear I can see the left side of my shirt moving slightly with the palpitations. Sweat has started to run down my forehead and it's stinging my eyes. I try to focus on my breathing, but I can only manage to produce shaking gasps of air at uneven intervals.

What do I do now? No matter who I approach, all of the others will notice. What if they take offence that I didn't choose to hang out with them? Shizune and Lilly hate each other, I can tell Lilly doesn't like speaking with Rin, Emi will probably take it personally if I choose anybody but her, Misha and Shizune are a package deal, Rin doesn't know what planet she's on. There are too many factors; it's like a riddle with no answer. Who am I supposed to shoot now, Kenji? I've been flanked by the enemy. This isn't how it was supposed to happen. This isn't fair.

Turning back behind me, I risk another peek at Emi and Rin. They're still chatting, but they're standing in front of one another now, and I can see the profiles of their faces. If I keep staring, either one of them could easily see me in their peripheral vision. Cupping one hand to the side of my face to prevent them from recognizing me, I turn around once more to look back at the Student Council and Lilly as they argue.

It looks as if Shizune has given up on scolding Lilly and is now silently pouting with her arms crossed as Misha cheerily speaks with Lilly herself.

"No."

Who said that? Did I say that? If it was me, I agree with myself. I need to get out of here, right now. Screw the festival. Abort mission.

As I try to sneakily commence my tactical retreat back to the dormitories, Shizune turns and looks right at me, frowning slightly.

Not good. Bad. Help. I look back-and-forth between both groups of girls a few more times, trying to will myself out of existence.

Upon seeing my reaction, her frown deepens. She uses her index finger to readjust her glasses before she starts throwing dozens of hand gestures my way. I have no idea what she's saying. Misha has only taught me the essentials, like 'hello,' or 'washroom,' or 'please stop hitting me, Shizune.'

Realizing this, she looks back to Misha and starts pulling on the sleeve of her shirt. Misha doesn't notice though. She seems focused on her conversation with Lilly and she can get pretty spacey at times.

Now's my chance.

During the confusion I break away into a full-body sprint. I was surrounded, so I couldn't go forwards or backwards, and if I went to the right and back to my room, Shizune and Misha would probably meet me there shortly afterwards to confront me.

The only safe way to go now is toward the school gates. It's probably for the best. It's still early in the afternoon and I need to find somewhere to hide for the rest of the day while the apocalypse blows over. Maybe Kenji had the right idea building a fort to stay in.

My chest is starting to tighten up, but the finish line is in sight, so I persevere. I double my efforts and increase my pace, speedily passing through the iron gate of the school and onto the sidewalk in front of it. Skidding to a stop, I bend over and rest my hands on my knees while I catch my breath. No heart flutter this time, but I know if I had pushed myself a bit further than I had, I might be in a bad way right now. Five minutes of quivering and heavy breathing pass before I finally feel stable and stand back up.

Just as I straighten my posture I see a large square shape approaching from down the road. After wiping the sweat from my eyes I can now see that it's a bus. Specifically, the bus that travels to the small town close by. I had walked there once with Shizune and Misha to get something to eat.

Perhaps that could serve as my hideaway for the day. Everyone is so busy around here that nobody from school will be in town.

Not a great plan, but it's all I have. I wish I had brought a book with me; it would make camping out for the rest of the day less boring. Then again, it's not like I had planned any of this.

What am I going to tell Shizune tomorrow? I could lie and say that I was having heart issues, but I'm not ready to let her know about my condition yet. She'll think I'm even weaker than she probably already does.

Standing by the sign at the bus stop, I search my pockets for the necessary amount of change needed to pay the fare.

The bus soon screeches to a halt and the door slides open. I look back one last time at the school, seeing everyone laughing, smiling, and enjoying themselves. I can't help but slump my shoulders and shake my head at the sight before boarding the bus and taking a seat near the front. As the bus takes off I look out the window and I'm met with a face I've grown to hate.

"Way to go, moron."

* * *

That couldn't have possibly gone any worse. I'm a walking, talking, worst-case scenario. I tend to blame all of my problems on bad luck, but after a while, if bad things consistently keep happening to you, you should probably come to terms with the fact that you're the problem.

I've only been here once before, but the exterior of the Shanghai is unique enough that I spot it with ease.

Looking through the windows of the establishment, I confirm that there's nobody who I recognize inside before entering. I need some time away from the world. Science hasn't progressed to the point where I can be transported to my own private pocket dimension yet, so this café will need to do for now.

There are only two or three people inside. From what I've heard, and from what I saw last time, this place is usually dead, but today it's especially quiet due to the festival. Good.

Pushing open the door causes a tiny bell to ring, so I do as I'm meant to do and stand near the entrance while I wait to be greeted by a waitress.

It's a little ridiculous that you need to wait to be seated in a place that never has more than a handful of people inside, but there's no sense in arguing about it. Besides, if Yuuko is the one working today and I disobey the proper procedures, she might have a stroke.

If people could figure out a way to convert anxiety into electricity then Yuuko, Hanako and I could probably power the entirety of Japan all by ourselves.

Sure enough, I hear a loud bang and Yuuko emerges from underneath a nearby table. She has a rag in her hand so I guess she must have been cleaning up a mess.

The first time I saw her here, I didn't know how to react, and I'm still somewhat unsure. At the Shanghai, she acts as a server, yet at the school she's the librarian, a member of the staff and someone who holds a degree of power over the students and acts as their superior. How am I meant to address her? Ms.? Yuuko? Ms. Yuuko?

She had dropped her glasses when she hit her head on the underside of the table, but picks them up and clumsily puts them back on as she hastily shuffles over to meet me.

"SORRYSORRYSORRYsorrysorrysorry! Hello and welcome to the Shanghai, I apologize for the wait," she says as she bows excessively deeply toward me.

She bows so far down in fact, that her glasses fall off of her face a second time. I don't know how she hasn't broken them yet.

I crouch down to pick them up for her, but she was already on her way down to do the same thing and we knock our heads together, causing us both to fall backwards.

We both quickly bounce back to our feet and I can feel my face grow red. I'm hopeless. I'd better apologize and make sure that she's not hurt.

"Sorry, Yuuk—"

"OH NO, SIR, I AM SO SORR—"

…

"No, I'm sorr—"

"NO, IT WAS MY FAUL—"

…

This is the worst; I'll just let her go first.

She apparently has the same idea and looks downwards to her feet, not saying anything. Fine, I'll go then.

"I didn't mean to—"

"I just thought that—"

Alright, I'm putting an end to this.

"YUUKO! Calm down! I was just trying to help. I'm sorry for hitting you, it was an accident. Are you okay?" I raise my voice just enough to prevent her from interrupting me again.

"Oh, I'm fine, sir. Don't worry about me. Happens all the ti—" She puts her glasses back on and pauses once she gets her first good look at me. "Hisao? Is that you? You look… are you feeling alright?" she asks me, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. She looks concerned.

Maybe for once I'll just be honest. "No, not really. I'm not feeling alright. How about you? Are you feeling alright?"

"…No, not really."

Both of us smile a little at this. I think she knows that I don't want to talk about it, and I know that she doesn't want to talk about it. Like I said the other day, misery likes company.

"So, may I take a seat somewhere?" I inquire, politely reminding her that we're both still standing in the middle of the entrance.

"Ah, of course. Silly me. Please, come this way," she says, gesturing for me to follow her, "You've decided to take a break from the festival then?"

"Something like that, yeah. Not really my style, I guess," I respond. I'm not lying; I'm just purposely not mentioning the more upsetting parts. There's a difference. At least, that's what I'm going to tell myself.

"Hmm, that's too bad. I wish that I could go," she sighs, "I hope that the fireworks later on will be visible from here. I love fireworks." she mutters the last part more quietly than the rest of her statement, with a wistful tone in her voice.

Yuuko brings me over to a booth at the far end of the restaurant, near the windows. Despite the fact that there are dozens of open tables, she has seated me directly across from someone else. I would have preferred something more private, but I don't want to make her even more flustered than she already is by complaining. The events of this afternoon have made me lose my appetite, so I just order a cup of coffee.

Somebody else must have already ordered a cup recently, because Yuuko is back almost immediately, suggesting that a pot had already been brewed. She tells me that she'll be at the counter, and to call her over if I'd like anything else. After I thank her, she takes her leave and I'm left alone with my thoughts once more.

My coffee is still too hot to drink, so I lean back and look around the interior. The Shanghai may be a little run-down, but it has its charm. Until recently, I had lived in the heart of the city my entire life, so I'm still not used to quaint little rustic places like this.

My eyes stop on the only real thing of interest in here, the person sitting at the table across from mine. Interesting may not be doing it justice though; I don't think I've ever seen someone so immediately visually intriguing in my whole life.

My staring shouldn't be an issue, as she seems far too busy to pay me any mind. There's an open briefcase on the chair next to her, papers are strewn about all over the table and she's typing away at lightning speed on what looks to be a cutting-edge laptop. Her blood-red eyes are darting back-and-forth along the screen so rapidly she almost looks possessed.

The features that I noticed first, however, were her pale, white skin and bright blonde, messy hair. Is she a foreigner? If so, what business could she possibly have here in the middle of nowhere?

I get the impression that she's reasonably wealthy, because in addition to being able to afford that computer, she's dressed in a trim-fitted pinstriped suit on top of a white button-up dress shirt and black tie. She even has cuff links and a tie pin and everything. The only thing remotely feminine about her getup is the pair of expensive looking red earrings which she has on.

It's difficult to discern what her body might look like, I feel like the suit does a lot to conceal that. From what I can tell, she has a lithe, athletic frame. Her bust is modest, so much so that I can hardly see it. If I had only seen her from her shoulders down to her midsection I might have assumed that she was a young man, but her hips to waist ratio clearly disproves that. Plus, despite her otherwise androgynous appearance, she has a very pretty face. Her hair is medium length, barely reaching her shoulders. It's rather disheveled, as if she had just gotten out of bed, but it looks so good she must have done it like that on purpose.

Normally I have more tact and can control myself. Nobody likes the guy with no manners who spends all of his time gawking and drooling over girls, but she really is striking. There are plenty of pretty girls at school, but none have matured to look like real women just yet.

It's difficult to fantasize about her, because I can't even imagine myself getting with someone like that. She wouldn't give a dope like me the time of day.

Maybe it makes me juvenile, but I'm in a really sour mood, and looking at the attractive lady is making me feel a little better, so please leave me alone, inner voice of conscience. My master plan at the festival was a bust, so let me at least have this.

Unfortunately, after a couple moments I'm broken out of my reverie as she straightens up and closes her laptop shut. I manage to turn my head away before she has the chance to notice that I had been staring. At least, I hope I did.

Even though I'm looking away now, I'm still thinking about her. She's a strange one. It's not often that you see women dressed up in suits like that. If they do wear them, the jacket is usually paired with a skirt and blouse.

Maybe she's involved in organized crime. She does have an intimidating aura about her. I wonder if she has a gun tucked away in that suit jacket. I hope I don't find out firsthand.

I hear some shuffling so I look back over to her. All of her stuff is still scattered across the table, but she herself has disappeared. I hope her boss didn't put a hit out on Yuuko or something, because I haven't paid for my beverage yet.

A couple minutes go by and the mysterious stranger has yet to return. With her gone I'm completely alone now, and without any blonde women to occupy my thoughts, that ugly, disgusting question crosses my mind once again.

What am I doing wrong?

This should have been a fun day. My first fun day in months, since before my heart attack. I can't even remember the last time things felt normal for me. I've really messed things up; I was so prepared to deal with the girls one-on-one, that when I saw all of them around me I felt suffocated. It still feels like I'm being suffocated.

I feel my eyes start to well up, so I instinctively bury my face in my hands. If anybody sees me they'll just assume that I'm tired and not that I'm a crybaby. I may be at rock-bottom, but I've still retained enough dignity to not weep openly in public like a loser.

I hear the sound of somebody plopping down into a chair nearby, so I know that the woman is back now. Running my hands up and down my face, I wipe away the one or two tears that had started to form in the corners of my eyes, pretending that I'm just rubbing my face to wake myself up.

When I look back up, I see that what I had suspected is true. The blonde woman is back at work, looking back-and-forth between her cell phone and various sheets of paper.

Staring at her some more would do me no good at this point, I have bigger concerns.

How am I possibly going to explain my actions to Shizune tomorrow? I can't avoid her; she's in all of my classes.

That's just the beginning too. Nothing has changed. Starting tomorrow, I go right back to being everybody's whipping boy for the rest of the year. Maybe even beyond that. This could be setting a dangerous precedent for the rest of my life. A short, sad life of servitude where every waking minute is spent trying to appease everyone because I'm too much of a nobody to make friends the normal way.

I need coffee.

Reaching out with a trembling hand, I grab the handle of my mug. As I bring it up off the table my hand is shaking so much that the mug rattles loudly against the saucer underneath it and I spill several drops onto the table and my hand. I think that should burn a lot, but I can't really feel it right now.

After taking a few sips, I had expected to feel better, but I don't. First reading does nothing to help me, now coffee has also betrayed me. I have nothing left in this world to comfort me.

I put the traitorous mug of liquid back down and rest my head on the table, gently closing my eyes.

I think I give up. This is an important moment for me. Years from now, I'll be able to look back to this one specific instance and say that this is when I had officially given u—

"Yo."

Huh?

Unwilling to raise my head, I open my right eye and turn my gaze upwards. I'm surprised to find that the stranger is standing over me. One hand lazily shoved into her pocket and the other one extended out toward me.

Does she… want a handshake? No bow? That's awfully bold. What does she want from me?

Her hand shows no sign of withdrawing, so I sit up straight, grasp it and give it one firm shake. Seeing as she was so informal with her greeting I'll respond in kind.

"Nakai. Hisao, if you want."

"Oh, first name right off the bat, huh? I like that. In that case, you can call me Akira."

She forgot to give me her family name, that's kind of rude.

Whoa. I couldn't see it from where she was sitting before, but she has cuts and scrapes all over her hands. Not something you'd expect from someone working an office job. Maybe she really is a criminal after all. I'm about to ask her about her hands, but she beats me to the punch.

"You bite your nails, huh?" she says while casually turning my hand over to get a better look at my fingers.

"I mean… I didn't used to. It's more of a recently developed habit," I respond, still unsure of what she wants. What do my nails have to do with anything? Maybe she's trying to sell me drugs. Small talk is how the dealers butter up impressionable youths such as myself, my mom told me that once. I won't give her the chance to take advantage of me. "I'm sorry; can I help you with something?"

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing," she says as she disengages from our handshake, before gesturing to my school blazer, "I just recognize the uniform and, you know, what it means. You looked like you were on the verge of passing out, so I wanted to come over and check to see if I had to call an ambulance or not."

"Oh. No, I'm fine. Thank you."

"You don't look fine, kid. We're the only ones here, so if you end up keeling over I'm the one that'll be blamed for not helping."

Geez, how selfless. "Well, don't worry about it. I don't plan on dying today."

"Staying alive is a pretty good short-term goal to have," she says as she leans against the edge of my table, "So, if you're not about to die, what else could possibly have you so bent out of shape? You do know that you're still in high school, right? What, did someone steal your lunch money or something?"

"Just, I don't know, problems? I have a lot on my plate right now." I told her that I'm okay, so why is she still here?

"Why not head back to your school and blow off some steam at the festival that's going on?" she says, shrugging at me.

"No. Absolutely not. I need to stay away from the school until the festival is over," I respond with a little more urgency than I had intended.

"Okay, okay. Shit, calm down," she murmurs, throwing her hands up in a relenting gesture.

I sigh slightly, ashamed of my little outburst. It's clear now that 'Akira' is pitying the crippled kid. Her heart is in the right place, so I'll humour her.

"Seeing as you know about Yamaku and the festival, I take it you live around here?" I ask, trying to steer the conversation away from me and my issues.

"Nah, I live a little ways away. My sister attends school at Yamaku, so I wanted to drop by today and surprise her. When I finally managed to track her down, I saw that she was swamped with her festival responsibilities, so I just left. She doesn't even know that I was there. Me and her actually hung out here together yesterday anyway, so it's not like I'm being neglectful. Besides, festivals aren't really my thing most of the time. They're just so… family friendly," she explains as she flicks a single speck of dust off her shoulder.

Her sister goes to school with me, huh? I knew she reminded me of somebody. I don't know how I didn't realize it sooner, I'm so dumb sometimes.

Naomi. The epileptic girl that sits near Hanako in the back of my class. She and Akira both have medium length, straight blonde hair, they both have really outgoing personalities, they even have similar facial structure. I would tell Akira that I'm in the same class as her sibling, but I don't know Naomi well enough for that conversation to not be awkward, so I keep it to myself for the time being.

"Your sister didn't see you before you left?"

At this she bursts out laughing for some reason.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure she didn't see me, Hisao," she says through a snicker. I don't get what's so funny. Maybe I have something stuck in my teeth.

Just as I'm about to ask her why she was laughing, Akira turns away from me and starts walking back to her own table. Rude way to start a conversation, rude way to end a conversation. At least she's consistent.

Turns out I was too quick to judge. She doesn't sit down but instead picks up her own cup of coffee before returning to my table, and slides into the seat opposite my own. Once she's settled in she reaches into her jacket pocket for something.

The light from outside glints off of the metal object as she pulls it out. It's a steel flask. She quickly unscrews it and pours some of the contents into her half empty cup of coffee. The smell of it stings my nostrils, even from across the table. Alcohol?

"Isn't it a bit early for that?"

"With my sleep schedule, concepts like 'early' and 'late' stop existing," she says as she tucks the flask back into her pocket.

"Uh, how often do you drink?"

She looks a bit confused by the question, and raises one eyebrow before responding with a question of her own. "You mean, like, per day?"

How has her liver not shrivelled up yet? That can't be healthy.

She waves her hand twice in front of her, indicating that I should just forget about it. "Anyway, what's got you so down, champ?"

"No offence, but why do you care? We don't even know each other."

"Sure we do. I'm Akira and you're Hisao."

"Okay, fine. But it's hardly your job to listen to me complain."

"You don't know the half of it. Telling people how to fix their problems is what I do for a living," she retorts through a crooked smirk.

"Oh, you're a therapist then?" I guess that would explain the formal clothes.

"A therapist? HA! No. My job might make me a scumbag, but even I'm not that much of a con artist. Shrinks are just glorified wishing wells. People toss coins at them and beg for better lives. They're modern day snake oil salesmen, selling the promise of a fix-all solution to whatever may ail you. Bullshit," she asserts, her voice growing louder the further she goes along.

Okay, wow, pretty strong opinion on therapists. "Well, what do you do then?"

"Lawyer. Salt of the earth, I know. Still, somebody has to do it. The silver lining in all of this, however, is that I am _more_ than qualified to help out a high schooler fix his widdle pwoblems." As she says this she reaches out to mockingly pinch my cheek, but I move my head backwards out of her reach.

"I wholeheartedly doubt that." I'm pretty sure that they don't have courses on how to make friends in law school, so I don't see how she could help me.

"Well, give me the chance to prove you wrong then. It's not like I'm charging you, so you know this isn't a scam. By the time you leave today I'll have you back on the right track," she says confidently, smacking her hand forcefully against the table.

"Then why even bother doing this?"

"Look, I had planned to spend the day with my sister, but those plans fell through. So I drive over here to have a coffee and catch up on some work, but then I finish all of it. My boyfriend said he isn't coming home until midnight, so I have _nothing_ to do for the rest of the day. By the sounds of it, neither do you. So, _**you**_ get to benefit of my infinite wisdom and _**I**_ get to atone for some of my more heinous lawyerly sins and do my good deed for the day," she says as she leans back in her seat and crosses her legs.

When she puts it like that, it's hard to refuse. Still, hearing that she has a boyfriend stings a little. I would have never had the balls to ask her out anyway, but it was still nice to humour the idea.

I shouldn't think like that, every interaction between a male and female doesn't need to be romantic. This complete stranger is going out of her way to help me out; the least I can do is show some appreciation for her efforts.

"Well, if you say so. I'm… sorry if I've been acting difficult, it's just been a really hard day for m—"

"Oh, you little bitch."

Well, that hardly seems like an appropriate response to someone voicing their gratitude to you.

She chuckles a bit when she sees me frown at this, "I wasn't talking to you, doofus."

I can see now that she's looking over my shoulder and out the window behind me. She reaches inside her jacket. I was kidding around before, but is she actually pulling out a gun? Maybe the Yakuza are outside.

Thankfully, it's just a keychain. She presses a red button in the middle of it and a horn sounds from outside.

Turning around to look outside the window, I see the headlights flicker on a car parked across the street. An expensive car by the look of it. I don't know the make of it because cars were never my thing. My family has never been too well-off from a financial standpoint, so I didn't see the point in taking an interest in things I could never afford.

The horn scares off a bird that had been perched on top of the hood. I guess she just wanted it off of her car.

"That's a really nice car… I think. Hobby of yours?"

"Nah, I just wanted to invest in a nice model so that it would last me a while. I want to avoid public transport as much as possible, can't stand it. Hate planes, hate trains, hate buses. I _especially_ hate buses," she sneers.

"I mean, very few people enjoy taking the bus, but I've never heard of someone _hating_ them before. What's so bad about buses?"

"Each bus is like its own little, miserable ecosystem. You have people refusing to wear deodorant. Babies shrieking. There's always a pack of apes hollering at the back of the bus, it's horrible. But the worst part is those seats they have reserved specifically for disabled people."

Did I mishear her? She has a sister who's prone to seizures, she's helping out a random crippled kid she's never met before out of the goodness of her heart, yet she doesn't like priority seating?

"I would have thought that you'd appreciate that kind of thing, seeing as your sister has a disability herself."

"That's the thing. If you were looking at my sister, you might not even know of her condition. It's not like she's missing limbs, you know? So who's to say who's entitled to sit there? That's what I hate about it. It forces you to judge people. That spot is meant to be for old folks and the physically impaired. So, what's the cutoff age where you're officially old enough to be offered that seat? When your hair starts to go grey? When you get those weird veins in your hands? What if I think somebody looks old, I offer them the seat and they get offended at the implication? The seat is meant to be accommodating, but it's mostly condescending," she says all of this through a flurry of impassioned hand gestures to help convey her point.

She stuffs both of her hands in her pockets and points her chin at me. "For example, look at you. You're at Yamaku for a reason, but you look perfectly healthy to me. If you got on the bus and I was in that chair, I wouldn't even consider offering you that seat. Besides, if you see somebody walk in with a cane or something, _everyone_ sitting down should be willing to offer them their seat. The fact that we need a spot specifically designated to be given up says a lot about our society. So yeah, if every other seat is taken, and that's the only one available, I'd rather fucking stand up for the whole ride."

I don't know if she just has a way with words, or if I'm buying into this because she's charismatic, but that little speech about a seat on a bus was way more thought-provoking than it had any right to be.

The whole thing caught me off-guard, and I must have been pretty deep in thought, because she interpreted my silence as a window of opportunity to bring the conversation back to my personal life.

"So… would I need to give you that seat, Hisao? What is it that brought you to Yamaku?"

"I'm not really comfortable talking about it yet. It's all still new to me," I respond, rubbing the back of my neck and looking away from her.

"Any problem that you might have becomes exponentially worse when you don't talk about it. It means you're scared of it. The more you talk about it, the less scared you are, and the less of a problem it is."

A smirk tugs at my lips after that last remark. "You sure you're not a therapist?"

"Pretty sure, yeah. If I was, I would have said some pseudo-intellectual nonsense about your feelings stemming from wanting to have sex with your mother or something." She laughs pretty hard at this, and it sounds especially loud because of how empty the Shanghai currently is.

I notice that she has much more of an honest laugh than any other girl I've ever met. Most tend to adopt polite, stifled giggles, but not Akira. Her eyes crinkle at the sides and a dimple appears on her right cheek. I've always found being able to laugh an attractive quality.

I really need to stop thinking like that, she has a boyfriend. Even though I'm an eighteen-year-old hormonal mess, I still greatly value the idea of monogamy and faithfulness. I just need to force myself to consider her a completely nonsexual entity. Like an onion. Or Kenji.

I can't help but appreciate her voice though. I'm not even really sure how to describe it. It's a bit deeper than most women, but not excessively so. There's a slight, pleasant raspiness to it. It has a warm, inviting quality, like listening to music on old record players.

No, really. That's enough. Even if she was single she could still do better than me, so knock it off.

Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to talk about my heart with her. She did offer. Besides, I don't want to bring it up with my classmates because I have to face them every day. I'll likely never see Akira again anyway, so why not vent to her?

"I have… arrhythmia. The word itself is pretty self-explanatory. My heart beats erratically. Too much physical exertion or any hard hits to the chest and I'm in trouble. I didn't even know I had it until a few months ago, when I had a heart attack out of nowhere. The doctors recommended that I finish my schooling at Yamaku, so I've pretty much had my whole life turned upside down."

"Damn. Sorry, kid. That explains why you're not faring so well, your heart lost its rhythm and your life followed suit," she says with a sympathetic tone. She puts her elbow up on the table and rests her head against her knuckles before continuing, "Must be tough, moving so far away on your own. I suppose you miss your family, huh?"

"Yeah, I do. I mean, it's not really that different from how it used to be. My parents were rarely home growing up. It's just that it feels a lot worse now because of the distance. Even if they weren't home all the time, I knew they were at least nearby. Now it feels like they're on the other side of the planet," I answer drearily.

All she responds with is a soft, thoughtful "Hmm."

Maybe family is a sore subject for her. I can't imagine why though, seeing as she clearly has a good relationship with her sister. An almost melancholic expression flickers on her face before she snaps out of it and follows up with yet another question.

"I don't get it. Why avoid the festival? If you're not feeling great, wouldn't a day off cheer you up?"

"It's a long story."

"Like I said, bozo, I have nothing better to do." As she says this she attempts to wave Yuuko over, clearly wanting a refill of her coffee. I guess she really is serious about settling in for the rest of the evening.

"Well, alright. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Once I get going it's difficult to stop. My mouth is like an open faucet pouring out a stream of frustrations. She does a lot to make it less awkward though, offering the occasional quip or piece of advice in response to my various troubles. Around halfway through the conversation it stops being an unpleasant recollection of the past and I'm surprised to find that I'm actually having fun. So much so that I don't even notice when it begins to turn dark outside.

The only hitch in the discussion comes once I finally mention the situation with all my new friends. She scoffs at the idea.

"You mean to tell me that you're freaking out because you have too many new friends? Give me a break. What's wrong with that?"

"It's like I told you, it's too much responsibility. I want people to like me, but it's a huge amount of work."

"Sounds to me like you don't have real friends then. Feeling obligated to do what everyone else wants you to do doesn't make you a good friend, it makes you something else entirely."

"What's that?"

"An employee." She pauses to let that sink in. "If you really want to be friends with these people, you need to be honest with them and say that you're being overwhelmed. If they don't understand that then they're not worth hanging out with anyway."

"It's not that easy."

"Try me," she says, cracking her knuckles.

"Huh?"

"Try me. C'mon. Rapid-fire. Tell me the supposed problems with each of your friends and I'll tell you why you're being ridiculous."

Fine, if she wants to be like that then I'll be happy to prove her wrong. "My running partner takes my exercise very seriously. She'll be extremely upset with me if I stop"

"Switch to something more low-impact that you actually enjoy. Let her know that your decision has nothing to do with her and that you still want to be pals. Next." She snaps her fingers once she's done speaking, eager to continue.

That… might work, I hadn't considered finding an alternative to running, maybe I could ask the Nurse about it. Akira may have Emi figured out, but there's no way she can help me with Shizune and Misha.

"The Student Council won't take 'no' for an answer. I've let them know that I don't want to join, but they keep bugging me anyway. And Shizune, the Council President, has a bad temper. She's sure to throw a fit if I disobey her wishes"

"Have you definitively told them 'no,' or have you said ambiguous, indirect stuff like 'I'll think about it' to avoid confrontation? _Be honest_."

"Well… it's just—"

"Yeah, that's what I thought. You need to let them know once and for all that you're not interested. Besides, I'm… familiar with your Student Council. Shizune is my cousin. Trust me when I tell you, she might be upset initially, but after a few days she'll come to admire your decisiveness. Next," she says smugly as she taps her index finger against her temple.

First she's Naomi's sister, now she's Shizune's cousin. How far does the rabbit hole go? Is Mutou going to turn out to be her father next?

I hate to admit it, but she is brutally dismantling my entire argument. Maybe I have been acting ridiculous; maybe this is what I've been doing wrong. I'm not going down without a fight though.

"But… Rin, the painter—"

"She's done with her mural, right? So you and her are good now. Next." I think she knows how well she's destroying my counterpoints right now, as a devilish, crooked grin has found its way onto her face. She must be horrifying in a courtroom.

"The two girls that I have lunch with ar—"

She doesn't even let me finish before responding, "From what I can tell, those two might be the only real friends you've made the past week. Surely there's no problems there?"

"It's just that one of them is extremely nervous whenever I'm around. I don't know how to act around her, it makes me feel uneasy."

"Ha, I know the type. Listen, this friend of yours can't possibly be as bad as this other girl I know. She's one of my sister's pals and she's a complete emotional wreck most of the time."

One of Naomi's friends is an 'emotional wreck'? I've only ever seen her hanging out with Natsume and she seems normal enough. Weird.

She takes a sip of her coffee before continuing her thought, "This chick can barely speak. As such, everyone feels the need to walk on eggshells around her, to try and accommodate her. Do you want to know what you really need to do with people like that?"

"What?" If Akira can actually help me figure out how Hanako works, she would deserve a Nobel Peace Prize.

"Just talk to them like they're regular people, because they are. Look for ways to have fun with them and they eventually come out of their shell," she informs me with a knowing smile.

I don't know about that, the one time I tried to speak with Hanako like a regular person she ran away from me like I was contagious. "It's a nice idea in theory, but I doubt that would really work in practice."

"It worked on you," she says, shooting me a sidelong glance while bringing the mug to her lips again.

"…Whoa." I'm only realizing now how much I've opened up to her in the past few hours. Did she just brainwash me?

"Honestly, Hisao, I hate to say it, but none of these girls have done anything wrong, it's you. How are people supposed to know that you don't like the way you're being treated if you never voice your opinion? You're letting people walk all over you; you need to be more confident."

Her words make me a little angry, but I do a good job of hiding it. What she just said reminds me a lot of what the Nurse told me yesterday morning, when he warned me to try and be less stressed out. I can't choose to be less stressed and I can't force myself to be more confident, when are these people going to realize that?

"It isn't that simple," I mutter, looking down at the table.

"Never said that it would be, but it's what you need to do. Nobody ever starts off confident; it's something you work at. All you have to do is _pretend_ that you're the shit, then after a while you'll start to believe it yourself and then you will have actually _become_ the shit."

"Wha— Why would I ever want to be shit? What an awful thing to say to someone," I blurt out, grimacing in disgust.

"Jesus Christ." She pinches the bridge of her nose between her fingers and shuts her eyes. "You're not going to BE shit; you're going to be THE shit. THE. There's a difference. It means you're cool, y'know?"

Okay… I think I get it now.

"Look, I would love to be a 'shitty' person like you Akira, but being cool doesn't come naturally to people like me, alright?"

"Not ' _shitty_ ,' ' _the_ shi—' …Just forget it, alright? Maybe English idioms don't translate well to Japanese."

Our heated debate about fecal matter gets interrupted by several loud pops and flashes of light coming from outside. I guess the big finale of the night has begun.

I hear another noise and turn around to find Yuuko quickly shuffling to a window across the room, to look up at the fireworks. For the first time since meeting her, she almost looks at peace. I'm glad that she got to see them; I get the impression that she isn't often afforded even the simplest of pleasures such as this. Working two jobs and attending university, what a nightmare. Makes my problems seem small by comparison, maybe I have been foolish.

When I turn back around I notice that Akira is also looking up at the show in the sky, with a content look on her face. I always thought that lawyers were all business, the type of people who could never enjoy something as frivolous as a fireworks display. Then again, most lawyers probably wouldn't go out of their way to help out a total stranger without charging them, so maybe Akira is an outlier.

I turn to face the window, but I stealthily keep my eyes on Akira. The colours dancing across her smiling face are more fun to look at than the fireworks themselves. Her boyfriend is a lucky guy.

There's one last volley of rockets for the big climax as the show reaches its conclusion. I can hear the faint cheering from the crowd echoing from all the way over at Yamaku. I can't help feeling a small pang of regret in my stomach. Talking with Akira really cleared some stuff up, things would have been fine if I had stayed at school and I likely would have had a great time. I should be over there cheering with everyone else. Then again, if I hadn't come here today, I never would have received these valuable life lessons in the first place.

Just as I'm about to resume our conversation, Akira's left breast starts vibrating. For one millisecond I fear that I might have missed a very crucial part of sex education, but quickly come to the conclusion that it must be her cellphone, which turns out to be the case. Thank god, if women learned how to vibrate on command, they would never have to leave the house.

She quickly types out a message on the keypad and slides out of her chair, heading back to her own table to pack away her things. As she puts her computer and all of her assorted documents back into her briefcase, she begins speaking to me over her shoulder.

"Alright, your assignment for now is to fix things up with at least two of your girlies. No excuses," she warns me.

"My assignment?" What is she talking about?

"Yep, you give me the results the day after tomorrow. I'll be right here at the same booth. My work schedule has… loosened up a bit as of late, so I can get the occasional day off. I have stuff to do tomorrow, but I'll be here Tuesday, and so will you. Again, no excuses," she says, pointing toward me almost threateningly.

She proceeds to down the rest of her coffee in one gulp. She had her cup topped off five times while we were sitting here, she's even worse than me. Before I can argue against her demands, she picks back up where she left off.

"It's one thing to talk about doing something, and another thing entirely to follow through. So I'm going to need to check up on you to see if it went well."

I've had enough of this; my curiosity needs to be sated.

"Alright, I was willing to accept that maybe you were just a kind person who wanted to hang out for the day and give me a pep talk, but now you're going so far as to arrange a follow-up. I hope you don't take this personally, but I'm having a hard time believing your reasons for helping me are entirely altruistic. I'm a complete stranger to you, why are you going through so much trouble to help me?" I ask, staring at her with a bewildered expression on my face.

"What? Can't a gal just want to help out a cat who's down on his luck?" she pouts, looking to her right.

She's trying to dodge the question, but I won't let her, and I hope my expression adequately conveys that. I need to know why she's sticking her neck out for me. When she sees that I won't budge on the matter she lets out a barely audible sigh and her eyes glaze over as she seems to get lost deep in thought.

"You remind me of someone that I used to know," she replies earnestly.

I would press her further, but the solemn look on her face suggests that now might not be the time to pry. It's vague, but it's something. I can't help wondering who she's referring to, maybe an old friend of hers?

She picks up her briefcase and turns to look at me one last time, her crimson eyes locking with my own. Normally, I have trouble with eye contact, but it's as if I can't look away this time. She was being sarcastic before when she was boasting about her infinite wisdom, but I'm honestly starting to believe it. I can almost see the vast wealth of knowledge and experience swimming around in her irises. It seems like at any given moment she could explain all of life's mysteries to m—

"See ya' Tuesday, dork."

Not quite as profound and life changing as I had hoped for, but it's a start.

Before I can say anything in return she begins to make her way to the exit, and without even turning to face me she casually throws up her right hand to wave goodbye. Soon enough she's out the door and I'm watching her speed off in her fancy car. What in the world just happened? Is she even human?

I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth; she has really tipped the scales back in my favour. After having learned so much from Akira's counsel today, I retroactively feel like an idiot for thinking Kenji's tip yesterday was the most brilliant thing I'd ever heard.

I've never met anybody who seemed so in control before. Just being in the presence of her laid back confidence was exhilarating; she's like the protagonist of one of those western spy movies from a few decades ago. If she's really serious about helping me get back on my feet, maybe I can end up like her someday. Man, that'd be something else.

I should get going, I lost track of time with Akira and it's starting to get really dark out. I need to get back before curfew; I don't want to get in trouble before I even finish my first week here.

As I look down to pick up my coffee and finish it off, I'm surprised by the reflection I see in the black liquid below me. The boy that I've gotten used to seeing isn't there this time.

This new guy is smiling.

* * *

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ Huge thank you to SLotH4 for reading through the story and editing spelling and grammar. Make sure to check him out!


	3. Necronomicon

_Part 3: 'Necronomicon'_

* * *

"What do you mean you don't want to run with me anymore?"

Well, here we go.

"It's not that I don't want to run with you, Emi. I don't want to run at all. Whenever I finish my laps it feels like my chest is on fire, and not in a satisfying 'runner's high' kind of way. It's killing me," I explain, hoping that she can tell that I'm not taking this decision lightly.

"It's not the running that's going to kill you, it's _refusing_ to run that's going to kill you," Emi responds sharply, in a harsh tone of voice I didn't even know she was capable of.

She has her arms crossed in front of her and is looking at me indignantly, as if I've deeply, personally insulted her. I knew this would happen.

I raise both of my hands up to shoulder height and walk backwards a few steps, as if I was retreating from an armed robber. I'm still covered in sweat and breathing heavily from our run. I felt that it might have softened the blow if I had at least completed this morning's exercise session before breaking the news to her. Needless to say, that plan has backfired severely. If anything, I've put myself at more of a disadvantage because I can't catch my breath well enough to voice my thoughts as eloquently as I'd like to.

"Emi, I appreciate all that you've done for me and I like hanging out with you, but if I keep runn—"

"What is it with all of you people who have heart problems? First Rika, now you. You _**do**_ know that if you don't exercise regularly you're going to really regret it eventually, right? Right? What are you thinking?" Now her arms are outstretched almost pleadingly, and she's looking at me so incredulously you'd think I had just said I was considering setting myself on fire.

I don't know who this Rika person is, but it's clear that this isn't the first time someone has opted to not partake in Emi's training. I feel awful, but Akira is right, I can't keep torturing myself every morning out of fear that I may hurt Emi's feelings.

"I _**am**_ going to exercise, Emi, I just need something less intensive or I'm going to pass out on the track one of these days. I'm not in as good shape as you," I respond, trying carefully to defuse this situation. I wish she wouldn't take this so personally.

At this, she shuts her eyes tight and turns away from me. She's not moving at all, save her trembling, clenched fists. Wait a minute, is she going to punch me? I had better back away further before she-

"It's fine, Hisao. Forget about it," she says… cheerily? She's turned back to face me now and has reassumed her usual, ebullient nature. I could have sworn that she was just furious with me not fifteen seconds ago.

"I, uh, really? Are you sure?" I ask cautiously.

"Yeah, totally. It's no big deal; you do whatever you feel is right." There's the smallest hint of passive-aggressiveness in her voice, and the look in her bright green eyes betrays the otherwise cheerful disguise she's put on. I can see now that she's being insincere, and that somehow hurts way more than when she was just yelling at me. This is the kind of reaction one would expect from a disappointed parent.

"Look, Emi, you've been a good friend to me from the moment I arrived here. I really hope that this doesn't come between u-."

"I still have to finish my laps, Hisao. Maybe we can get a rain check on this conversation?" she interrupts, bouncing up and down on her running blades, clearly eager to get going, and likely equally eager for me to leave.

"…Yeah, alright. I'll see you around?" I ask hopefully.

"Yep," she states curtly.

Before I can attempt to finish our conversation on better terms, she rockets away at full speed and begins to circle the track. She's going faster than I've ever seen her run before. During our runs she must have been purposely going slower than usual in order to keep an eye on me. Or maybe anger is just a powerful motivator.

I'm not happy about what just transpired at all, but standing here dumbfounded will only serve to worsen the state of things, so I may as well begin walking over to the Nurse's office. Before I can even reach the chain link exit of the track, Emi has already completed one lap and passes right by me, pointedly avoiding eye contact.

Prior to going back inside the school, I lean up against the same brick wall I had rested against after my little episode last Saturday. Maybe this spot can be my designated 'Emi suffering zone.' After taking a few moments to mull over what just happened and how I could have possibly avoided it, I exhale deeply and push the door open to go back inside.

 **Ladies of Yamaku:1, Hisao:0**

* * *

I hate the smell of these hallways.

I consider myself to be a tidy person. I like my things to be kept well-organized and I appreciate cleanliness, but my time in the hospital taught me that there's such a thing as _too_ clean. The interior of the school often smells of various cleaning materials and all of the floors and walls are kept pristine, I think I would prefer it if it felt more lived in.

Much like the hospital and its patients, I'm sure that the academy needs to be extremely mindful of hygiene due to the multitude of different illnesses present in the student body. I'd wager that there are at least a few students who have very poor immune systems, or are more prone to infections than others. Just because it's justified doesn't mean I have to like it though. The atmosphere here always feels overly sterile and synthetic, like we're being kept in a giant cage for lab rats.

It could just be that I'm in a bad mood because of my little spat with Emi. Akira said that she wants me to patch things up with at least two of my acquaintances by tomorrow afternoon. Out of all of them, I had thought that Emi would be the easiest one to win over, but now even she's angry with me. I had anticipated disappointment, sure, maybe one of her signature pouts at most, but I didn't expect outright contempt. If I can't get along with the nicest, most sociable girl in school, what hope do I have with any of the others?

If I strike out with all of them I don't think I'll have it in me to face Akira tomorrow. Should that come to pass maybe I just won't show up to the Shanghai at all, never hurts to have an exit strategy. I'd rather it didn't come to that though, even if we've only just met, part of me really wants to impress her for some reason.

Having reached the door to the Nurse's office, I begin my usual routine of clearing my mind before I knock. You need to be on your toes with this guy. I'm glad that I got here before Emi did, because she would have no doubt given him an earful about my decision to stop running. At least if I'm the one to do it I'll be here to defend myself.

"Go ahead!" he shouts from inside his office.

As I enter the room I see him sliding a beige folder into a filing cabinet to the right of his desk. He quickly closes the drawer shut and sits down in his chair.

"Ahh, good morning, Hisao. You're a few minutes late," he remarks, gesturing for me to also have a seat.

I give him a quick bow in response to his greeting and sit down across from him. "Yes, sorry, sir, I got caught up with Emi."

"That's not surprising, Miss Ibarazaki certainly runs a tight ship," he says, casually spinning his chair around to face the wall behind him and remove his stethoscope from its wall mount, "So, are you feeling any better? Did you enjoy the festival?"

Can I honestly say that I'm feeling better? I think my morale has marginally improved, relative to the sad state that I was in the last time I was in this office. I still have the weight of the world on my shoulders, but now it seems like Akira is willing to shoulder some of the burden on my behalf. I don't know whether or not I'll see her again after tomorrow, or if these hangouts are just a two-time deal, but her support has still raised my spirits regardless.

"Yes, I do feel better now. Thank you," I respond with a small smile, "As for the festival, it was definitely… eventful."

"An event was eventful? Who would have thought? Thank you so much for all of that deep insight into your life, Nakai," the Nurse says sarcastically, before standing up and walking around his desk to face me, "If you're done telling me the riveting story of your adventures yesterday, you can take your shirt off and we can get this show on the road."

I do as he asks and allow him to get to work. After going through the usual steps with the stethoscope he doesn't look too thrilled, but he's definitely not as upset as he was with my previous checkup.

"Well, it's an improvement. It could be better, but I suppose it's to be expected, seeing as you didn't exercise Saturday or Sunday. I trust there were no complications at the track today?"

"Well… Yes and no," I say meekly, trying to find the correct way to phrase what I want to say.

His posture straightens and his brow furrows upon hearing this. "What is it, Hisao?"

"I don't think I want to run anymore," I respond nervously, afraid to see his reaction.

I had expected him to be angry with me, but he looks concerned more than anything. He leans back against his desk with a thoughtful expression on his face before speaking again.

"You can't simply stop exercising, Hisao. If you don't keep running you'll need to find a different way to keep active. Had you given that any thought before making this decision?"

"Well, I was kind of hoping you could help me with that," I admit, sheepishly conceding to the fact that I hadn't thought of any alternatives on my own.

"Hmm, well let me show you some of the available activities, and you let me know if any of them strike your fancy," he offers, before flipping through multiple sheets of paper on a nearby clipboard. Eventually he finds the page that he was looking for and slides it over to me.

I pick it up and start perusing my options. Right off the bat, dancing and swimming are out of the question because I never learned how to do either. There are various sports available, but most of them involve balls flying around at high velocities, so those are automatically off the table in my case. There's not much else that interests me, except for… hey, that might work.

My body language must have let on that I found something that interested me, because the Nurse has perked up and is looking at me intently. "Find something you like?"

"Weight lifting sounds like it might be good," I respond enthusiastically. I've always been a scrawny guy, so maybe putting on some mass would help bolster my confidence.

The Nurse seems doubly, if not triply as excited as I am. "Oh, yes. That's a brilliant idea, Hisao. I don't know why I didn't think to suggest that to you sooner. It just so happens that I already have the perfect routine for you to follow," he says, rubbing his hands together.

"Really? That's great! What kind of exercises would you have me do?"

"Oh, let's see here", he licks his thumb and begins rapidly flipping through the pages of a nearby booklet. "Right, so you know what a pull-up is?"

"Of course."

"Well I'm going to have you do a modified version of that, where instead of pulling yourself up with your arms, you tie a rope around your neck and pull yourself up like that in order to strengthen your neck muscles."

"That… sounds somewhat unorthodox, but you're the doctor I guess."

"Mm, nurse actually. I think to supplement this new routine I'm going to recommend a diet consisting exclusively of paint thinner and thumbtacks."

Oh. I see what he's doing now. Very funny.

"Okay, you've made your point, sir," I groan.

"You don't want to hear about the part where you bench press flaming swords?"

"I'd rather not, no."

The Nurse tosses the booklet aside and drops his childish smirk in favour of his more serious, 'we need to talk' expression.

"Hisao, that may have sounded ridiculous, but none of that was too far off from how dangerous it would be for you to actually start lifting weights. If I were to slap you in the chest right now it might very well be enough to send you to the emergency room, and I am not a strong man. Now, can you imagine what would happen if you dropped over one hundred pounds of steel onto your chest? Even if you didn't drop the bar, the strain of lifting something too heavy alone may be enough to set you off. I'm not trying to be too hard on you, but you won't be at Yamaku forever and you need to start becoming more familiar with your limitations," he advises, resting a hand on my shoulder, probably to let me know that he means well, despite his brutal honesty.

"Of course, sir, I understand. Sorry for bringing it up," I almost whisper back at him. I hadn't intended to speak quietly, it just came out that way. I can't help feeling a little defeated; I still haven't come to terms with how weak I am yet. It's emasculating to say the least.

I only notice now that I had been staring at my shoes while he was lecturing me, so I look back up at him and see that he almost looks more dejected than I do. He's a kind fellow, so I get the feeling that it upsets him when he can't help out the students here with their problems.

However, after a few seconds his eyes narrow and he seemingly stares into nothing. I consider asking him if he's alright, but before I can, he snaps his fingers and hurries back behind his desk. He reaches underneath a messy pile of papers and pulls out a spiral notebook. He opens it up and searches through it for a while before finding whatever it is that he's looking for. His smile has found its way back onto his face now and he looks quite pleased with himself.

"Hisao, do you know where the gymnasium is?" he asks, looking back over at me curiously.

I've never been to the gym at Yamaku; I'm one of the many students whose condition prohibits them from participating in phys-ed at all. Still, I've passed by the double door entrance plenty of times and it's clearly labeled, so finding it wouldn't be a problem.

"Yes, I know where it is. But I can't take part in gym class, sir. You know that." I'm really not sure where he's going with this.

"You still won't be attending class, but I want you to be at the gym Wednesday regardless. Not the gym proper, mind you. Towards the back of the room there's a pretty spacious storage area where the teacher keeps all of the mats and sporting equipment. Normally, students aren't allowed in there, but we'll make an exception in this instance. I'll notify your new training partner and he'll be meeting you there first thing in the morning," he explains as he rests the back of his head in his hands and leans back in his chair.

"Well, what is it that we'll be doing?"

"It's probably best that he explains it to you, he'll sell it better than I could ever hope to. He's, uh… pretty passionate about it. Don't worry though, he's harmless. We can't have you lifting weights, but I feel like this may serve as a happy medium."

"First you set me up with Emi, and now this new guy as well. How do you have so many people willing to do this stuff for you?" I inquire, desperate to learn more about the otherworldly entity that is 'The Nurse.'

"I help out a lot of people, Hisao. More often than not they're rather appreciative and are willing to pay it forward when I come across another student that needs assistance. That's the beauty of a place like Yamaku, all of you are in this together," he says this as he throws his arms out to his sides, as if he were giving a speech to thousands of people, "You know, I scratch somebody else's back, they scratch my back. I'm kind of like the Godfather of this school."

"Wait a minute, does that mean that one day you expect me to do something for you?" I ask nervously. The Nurse isn't the kind of guy I want to owe a favour, I feel like there's a high chance hiding bodies would be involved.

"If a student ever comes to me asking for advice on how to seduce their science teacher, you'll be the first one I call, trust me," he quips, adding on one of his cheeky winks.

"One of these days I'm going to report you for sexual harassment, sir," I sigh.

"In doing so you would expose you and your professor's dirty little affair. How scandalous. How taboo. How _erot_ —"

"THANK YOU FOR YOUR HELP, NURSE! GOODBYE!" I don't like raising my voice, but I had to take drastic measures to drown out the filthy implications coming from his mouth. I wish they sold soap for your brain, I don't think I'll ever feel clean again.

As is usually the case, once I'm halfway out the door he has one last thing to say to me.

"Yoshio Mikami, by the way."

Leaning against the doorframe, I turn back to face the Nurse. "Who? Is that the student I'm supposed to meet Wednesday?"

"No, Hisao. _My_ name is Yoshio Mikami. For god's sake, stop calling me 'Nurse,' It's weird. I know that I ask all the students to call me 'Nurse" when I first meet them, as a formality, but have you really never gotten curious? I've mostly just been testing people—trying to see how long it would take before somebody broke and demanded to know what my name was. Why is nobody interested? Do I really scare people that much?"

I can't explain why, but it feels wrong knowing what his real name is for some reason. It's like I've accidentally stumbled across confidential government files, or made contact with an eldritch, Lovecraftian being that the human mind cannot comprehend.

"Do you… do you mind If I just keep referring to you as 'Nurse'?"

He groans loudly and slumps down in his chair. "It's not fair. Why do I always have to be 'Nurse'? Does Mutou call you 'Student'? Do you call him 'Teacher'?"

"Well, no. It's just…"

He sits back up and throws a sly grin my way before responding. "Yeah, you wouldn't call him 'Teacher' _or_ Mutou, would you? You probably call him 'Daddy,' or 'Big Gu—"

"GOODBYENURSETHANKYOU!" I shout, this time choosing to run out of his office as fast as I can, trying to avoid creating more memories that I'll need to repress later on.

"IT'S MIKAMI, PUNK!"

* * *

"Ch-Checkmate"

"Gah, I can never see the knights coming," I mutter, resting my head in my hands.

I'm not actually frustrated with losing; I'm not a sore loser. I've just started hamming it up when I lose to Hanako because it seems to amuse her, even though she tries to hide it. It's obvious that she loves playing games, whenever we play chess it's the closest I come to seeing her relax, it's like she's in her element. Rin might say that it's 'Hanako at her Hanako-est.' She must have a competitive streak deep down, though she can't be nearly as bad as Shizune is.

Come to think of it, I have no idea where Shizune was today. While the idea of confronting her does make me nervous, I was hoping to set the record straight with her after class. Unfortunately, she and Misha never showed up in the first place. If I had to make an educated guess, I suppose they must be dealing with Student Council business related to wrapping up any leftover festival affairs. Hanako had informed me that Lilly wouldn't be joining us for lunch today either, so maybe all of the class reps need to be present, I don't know.

What I do know is that I'm quickly running out of options. I messed up my confrontation with Emi, while Lilly, Shizune, and Misha are MIA.

If Akira wants me to smooth things out with two of my friends now, then my only available choices are Hanako and Rin. Tracking Rin down may prove to be difficult as well. Knowing her, she could be anywhere. Like sleeping inside an air duct in the ceiling or hiding underneath my bed with the rest of the creatures.

If I'm to meet my friendship quota for tomorrow, then I need to be very careful not to screw up while dealing with Hanako right now. If I can get her to loosen up even a tiny bit, then I can count that as a victory. Akira had advised me that all I need to do is treat Hanako like a regular person and try to have fun with her, so that's what I'll do. Be confident, Hisao.

As I begin to set the pieces back up for another game, I also prepare myself for the mental game of chess that we're about to play.

"So, Hanako, did you end up seeing any of the festival yesterday?"

"N-No…" she says, timidly tugging at the cuff of her sleeve.

Whelp, I guess that's the end of that topic of conversation. It's a bit frustrating when she doesn't give me more to work with, our 'conversations' always end up being one-sided wars of attrition as a result. If this is what it's like to speak with me, then it's no wonder that I have trouble connecting with people.

All of the pieces are back in their correct spaces now. Last time I was black, so it's my turn to go first this time. I move one of my centre pawns up two squares, standard opening for a standard guy.

Hanako chooses to move up one of her knights instead, god I hate those things. Their movements are so unpredictable sometimes.

I respond by advancing one of my bishops, while also racking my brain for something else to talk about. I'm about to say something lame about the weather, but she speaks up before I have the chance to.

"I did see the f-fireworks from my room though, th-they were very pretty," she stammers, a slight smile forming on her face as she moves one of her pawns.

I'm pleasantly surprised that she has chosen to elaborate on her answer, so maybe being direct with her was the right approach after all. I guess I'll continue trying this method for now.

"Yeah, it was quite the show. Were you in your room the whole day though? I'd have thought that you and Lilly would have liked to spend the day together," I comment, moving up one of my own knights. I have no idea what to do with these things, but it's still a smart idea to develop all of your pieces early on.

"Sh-She had to be at her booth, so I just stayed in the l-library for most of the day instead," she answers, as she adjusts the bangs in front of her right eye.

In the beginning I never knew where to look when speaking with Hanako. It feels rude to stare at her scars, but it also feels just as rude to avoid them. I've found that the least awkward thing to do is to just look her directly in the eyes when we speak. Normally, I'd have trouble maintaining eye contact like that, but it's easier than the alternative in this specific circumstance.

"Well, honestly, you probably had more fun in the library than I did at the festival. I think you made the right call." The only things we have in common are that we both like reading and dislike most social interactions, so it feels like a good idea to relate to her on those subjects whenever I can.

Come to think of it, even though we've read together a few times now, I've never actually talked about any books with her. Maybe that could be my ticket to putting her at ease. That, and I would genuinely like to have someone to discuss literature with.

"Are you still reading the same novel I saw you with last Thursday?"

"Y-Yes, I have it here. I brought it i-in case you didn't come," she says, digging through the brown knapsack on the ground next to her chair. Eventually, she finds the book and hands it over to me.

There's no art on the cover, just a black font for the title on top of a blank green background. I flip it around to look at the back and read the synopsis. Turns out that it's a story about the assassination of an American president and the effects it had on the political climate at the time. It actually sounds very fascinating, though I hadn't expected Hanako to read up on such a morbid topic.

"This seems interesting; I may have to pick it up from the library once you're done with it. How are you finding it so far?" I ask, feeling the last of my awkwardness fade away. I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner, I could talk about reading all day.

"It's v-very good. My favourite part has been the different c-conspiracy theories about what happened," she responds, straightening up in her chair slightly. She seems to have forgotten that it's her move. Normally she jumps at the chance to pay attention to the game as opposed to speaking with me, so I must be doing something right.

"In what year did all of this happe—"

Before I can finish asking my question I hear the door to the tea room open behind me, I guess Lilly managed to make it after all. I turn around to greet h—

Uh oh.

Unless Lilly has cut her hair, dyed it blue, and tried to buy glasses to fix her blindness, this isn't her. No, the person standing in the doorway looking crossly at me is the only person other than Akira who knows of my shameful display yesterday – Shizune Hakamichi.

I did want to speak with her, but did she have to interrupt me when things were going so well with Hanako? How does she even know that we eat lunch in here? I thought nobody else knew about this room.

She marches over to the table determinedly, gesturing wildly at me as she comes closer. I only recognize a few words though; she really overestimates my ability to understand her.

[Hisao, you — what — yesterday — I was —] she signs, before resting her hands on her hips and looking down at me expectantly.

I point with one hand to my other hand and shrug at her, to show that I have no idea what she's saying. Obviously I get the gist of it, but I'd prefer to know everything she said before answering so that there are no misunderstandings.

She rolls her eyes at me before taking a blue pen and a notepad from my open backpack. Normally, I don't like people touching my things without asking first, but I'm not exactly in a position to complain about it.

She slams the notepad down on the table and begins writing out her message to me. It's ironic that the deaf, mute girl is one of the loudest people I know. Always snapping her fingers, clapping, and moving everything around so forcefully. To be fair, I can't exactly fault her for being loud when she doesn't even have a point of reference for what being loud really means.

I look over to Hanako and see that she has buried her face in her book and is facing away from us, toward the window. I guess she doesn't know how to deal with this scenario, so she's chosen to disengage from it completely. I honestly don't blame her, given how much her timidity contrasts with Shizune's abrasive way of carrying herself.

Hanako doesn't speak with most students, but I imagine that she has been especially cautious with Shizune because of her and Lilly's rivalry. Hanako and Lilly are always together, so it's almost as if they're on one team, and Shizune and Misha are on the opposing team, even if Hanako and Misha likely want nothing to do with the ongoing feud.

It's probably for the best that Lilly isn't here right now. If she walked into the tea room while Shizune was present the ensuing explosion would rival the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Shizune punctuates her sentence with an exaggerated tap of my pen, flips the notepad around and slides it across the table toward me.

 _ **'What happened yesterday? Misha and I tried to find you, but you weren't on the premises. Why did you run away?'**_

I pick up the pen and tap it on the paper a few times while I think. I had already come up with a somewhat decent excuse before leaving my room this morning, but I need to make sure that I word it so that it's believable. Once I'm confident that I've found the correct phrasing, I begin writing down my response and slide the pad back over to her once I've finished.

 _ **'I got some food from one of the stalls and it didn't agree with me. You caught me right as I realized how sick I was.'**_

She reads it over quickly before looking back at me, likely trying to gauge whether or not I'm being truthful. I put on my best poker face and after a moment of deliberation she gives up on the stare down and goes back to writing.

 _ **'If that's true then you should have reported it. If someone from outside the school had also gotten sick then Yamaku would have been at fault. That was very irresponsible of you. If you were sick, then where did you go? We checked the infirmary and your room and you weren't at either.'**_

I knew that she and Misha would try to track me down, but I didn't think that they would scour the entire school looking for me. It may be a little scary, but in a strange way it's also flattering that they went through all that trouble for me. Still, my alibi is getting flimsier by the second, so I'd better be mindful of how I answer her. I wouldn't want to contradict myself.

 _ **'I didn't think to report it because I was distracted by how terrible I felt. The festival was too high-energy for me in my state, so I took a quick trip to town to buy some things to help settle my stomach. Once I got back I went to bed almost immediately, so maybe that's why I didn't answer the door if you stopped by my room.'**_

She considers this for what feels like an eternity before sighing and nodding at me. Good, she bought it.

We continue passing the pad back-and-forth for a while, exchanging small talk, before I notice that Shizune keeps stealing glances over at the chess board. It's almost endearing how she can't contain herself when games are nearby. The only person I know who loves games nearly as much is Hanako. I wonder which one of them would win if they were to play.

Actually… that's an interesting thought.

I need to improve my standing with two of my friends. Two of my friends are present. Both of they are happiest when they play games, it almost seems perfect. Then again, there is the aforementioned beef with Lilly hanging in the air like a thundercloud, but she isn't here right now. Misha is also gone, which probably puts Hanako more at ease. Misha means well, but I think her loud, in-your-face personality puts Hanako on edge.

There's no grey area here, my plan can either go great or extremely poorly. At least if the whole thing backfires I can say that I honestly tried. This is a very risky play, but Akira _did_ say that I need to be more confident in myself.

All's fair in social anxiety and chess.

I stand up from my seat abruptly, causing both girls to look over at me. I move to stand beside Shizune at the side of the table and begin writing down my proposition. Shizune is reading my message as I write it, and I slowly say each word audibly as I write them down, for Hanako's benefit.

"Hanako is… probably sick of beating me… over and over again… maybe she would enjoy… playing against… someone new?" I finish saying my sentence out loud before I'm done writing it, and I hear Hanako gasp while I write down the last few words for Shizune.

The two of them have very different reactions. Shizune looks thrilled at the idea of having a match with Hanako, but Hanako herself is looking at me as if I'd just held a knife to her throat. I half expect her to say: 'Et tu, H-Hisao?' Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

Either way, it's too late to take it back now, so I set the pieces back up and gesture for Shizune to take a seat where I had been sitting previously. Shizune is playing with the white pieces so she has to go first. Admittedly, I am very curious to see her play. She has trounced me at a couple different board games, but none of them really compare to the complexity of chess.

She starts off by cracking her knuckles and then moves the pawn in front of her king one space forward. Fairly standard, just like how I play.

Hanako begins just as she did before, by moving one of her knights forward. One of her tricky, sneaky knights. I would warn Shizune how dangerous Hanako can be with those things, but that wouldn't be fair to her.

In response to this, Shizune moves her king one space forwa— Wait, what? That's a stupid move. I hope Shizune isn't throwing the game for Hanako's sake. From what Akira implied, that would likely hurt her feelings more than it would encourage her.

Hanako looks just as perplexed as I do, who the hell moves their king a space forward on their second turn? I look over to Shizune and she's not wearing the face of someone who pities their opponent. If anything, there's more of a competitive fire in her eyes than usual. Maybe she just doesn't know the game as well as Hanako and I do.

Hanako chooses to move her own centre pawn two spaces forward.

Without even thinking about it Shizune moves her queen one space to the right, where her king had started. Okay, that move was even more stupid than her first, what is she playing at here? She's wasted all of her opening moves doing this weird, pointless positioning.

This time, Hanako picks up her bishop, but looks at me hesitantly as if to ask me what Shizune is doing. I shrug my shoulders in bewilderment and Hanako sets her bishop down.

Now, Shizune moves her King down to where her queen had started. She used her first four moves to switch the positions of her king and queen, I can't even begin to fathom what the hell she is thinki—

Shizune shoots up from her chair triumphantly, swiping her hand through the air as if she was slicing off the head of an invisible man with the edge of her palm.

Hanako and I both look at her like she's a madwoman, because apparently she is. After seeing both of our faces she picks the notepad back up and begins giddily scribbling on it once more.

Once she's done she slides the pad over to Hanako, who begins reading it over. I see her lip begin to quiver and I fear that she's about to start crying because of whatever Shizune wrote down, but much to my surprise she instead fails to hold back a small giggle.

I've barely even seen Hanako smile, let alone laugh. My curiosity is piqued, so I pick up the pad to have a look at it myself.

 _ **'This spells the beginning of the end for you, Ikezawa. Dare you challenge my fabled transvestite opening?'**_

Transvestite opening? Oh, because she switched her king and queen's positions on the board. That's one of the dorkiest jokes I've ever heard, but the fact that she wasted four of her moves just to make it is enough to make me laugh as well.

Shizune seems pleased with our reactions and holds her hand to her mouth, stifling a few silent giggles of her own before sitting back down and gesturing for Hanako to make her next move.

The rest of the game goes by fairly quickly, with Hanako winning after taking advantage of her early lead. There was no way Shizune could have won after having made such a ridiculous opening, especially given Hanako's skill level. I'm shocked to find that Hanako looks as if she's having a good time. She even went so far as to respond to some of Shizune's little messages while they were playing. She must like speaking through writing, because you can't stutter on paper.

I manage to sneak a peek at one of Shizune's replies to her.

 _ **'Normally I like putting myself at a disadvantage in the beginning of a match in order to give my opponent a fair shot at winning. Evidently, I underestimated you and you didn't need the handicap. Regardless, well done, Ikezawa.'**_

It's barely visible, but Hanako smiles a little while writing out her response. After reading it, Shizune nods and begins to set up the pieces once again. I guess Hanako had asked for a round two.

This time it's Hanako's turn to go first and she moves her leftmost pawn up one space. First Shizune, now Hanako. What in the world is going on with these openings?

Shizune is taken aback by this and raises an eyebrow before moving her centre pawn two spaces forward. Apparently she's in the mood to play seriously now.

Now, Hanako moves her rightmost pawn one space forward. This is arguably even worse than Shizune's first two moves. After finishing her turn Hanako writes out yet another message for Shizune.

 _ **'It's only fair that I make a silly opening as well.'**_

At this, both of them break out into the world's quietest gigglefest yet again. It's rather odd seeing a deaf mute and a selective mute laugh together, it feels like someone has turned down the volume on the entire room.

Seeing as Shizune is in as good a mood as I've ever seen her, I had better take this opportunity to refuse her invitation to join the Council. Picking up the pen and paper, I begin writing out my thoughts.

 _ **'I've put a lot of thought into it and I don't think I want to join the Student Council. The extra workload would be too much for me to handle right now. I really like hanging out with you and Misha, so I hope that we can all still be friends.'**_

I nudge Shizune's shoulder with the pad and she momentarily tears her eyes away from the chessboard to read it over. After quickly scanning my message she dismissively waves her hand in front of her and begins writing what she wants to say in return.

 _ **'I figured as much. I've known for days that you weren't interested; I was just waiting for you to either buckle under the pressure and join anyway, or to grow a spine and decline the offer. Don't worry about it, Hisao. Misha and I get things done well enough on our own anyway.'**_

I look back up at her from the paper to see if she really means it or if she's faking it like Emi was, but she's already looking excitedly back at the pieces on the board. Hanako looks equally engaged with the game herself.

I almost feel like a third wheel right now. There's only fifteen minutes left to lunch, so maybe I'll just leave these two to their game and get back to class early. Picking up my backpack, I wave goodbye to both of them and walk out of the room, leaving the notepad and pen behind so that they can continue conversing if they want to.

Well, I did it. That's two of my problems solved, as was requested of me. I can't wait to report my success to Akira tomorrow afternoon.

 **Ladies of Yamaku:1, Hisao:2**

Hot and Cold. Sweet and Sour. Hanako and Shizune. Who would have thought?

* * *

Akira's philosophy on that seat is contagious; I also can't help viewing it as obnoxious now.

Instead of sitting down, I move further toward the centre of the bus and choose to stand instead. I wonder which of my new friends at Yamaku would be worthy of being offered that seat. Rin would definitely need it, seeing as she can't hold onto the bars to keep herself upright. Though I don't doubt that she would try to hold onto one of the hand straps with her teeth, or wrap her legs around one of the poles like some sort of disfigured stripper.

You could probably make a case for Emi as well, if people with broken legs deserve it, surely someone with _no_ legs does too. I can't even picture Hanako being on a public bus in the first place; it's far too crowded for her taste. I'm not too sure about Lilly or Shizune. They may be blind and deaf, respectively, but that doesn't prevent them from standing.

Still, aren't they more entitled to that spot than most people are? That's where the ethics start to blur. Yeah, I can definitely see why Akira hates that chair.

The remainder of yesterday went by without any further issues. I finished my afternoon classes, went back to my room, made myself some supper, had a debate with Kenji about whether or not the female breast is secretly a venom sac and went to bed. So, thankfully, the damage report I have to give Akira will only pertain to my argument with Emi. Still, messed up with one friend, fixed things with two. That's a net profit of one disabled girl.

As I step off of the bus I thank the driver and tell him to have a nice day, most people are way too impolite with bus drivers. It's typically a thankless job and they have to deal with a lot of despicable people in their day to day lives. Despite the thin, grey hair and dark circles under his eyes making him look miserable, he offers an unexpectedly warm smile in return and tells me to have a good day as well.

The Shanghai is relatively close to the bus stop, so it doesn't take too long for me to walk over there. Pushing open the door to the entrance, I hear the now familiar bell chime and I wait to be greeted by a server.

Today marks my third visit to this café and for the first time, I'm met by someone other than Yuuko. I guess even she gets some days off, however rare they may be. This new waitress seems to be the exact opposite of Yuuko. She's wearing an excessive amount of eyeliner, has a piercing in her lower lip, and rather than looking nervous, she just looks like she'd rather be anywhere but here. Part of me sympathizes with her; working at the Shanghai must be incredibly dull due to the lack of consistent clientele. She lazily welcomes me and is about to show me to a table when she is cut short by a familiar voice bellowing from across the room.

"It's alright, he's with me!"

I look over to my right and her messy, blonde hair almost acts like a beacon, allowing me to spot her instantly. Good, she is here. Part of me was worried that she was just bluffing about coming today and that she'd blow me off at the last minute. For a moment I think that she hasn't changed her clothes since I last saw her, which would be gross, but upon closer inspection I can see that this suit doesn't have any stripes on it, and that her tie is red instead of black today.

Maybe I spent too much time looking at her, because she claps her hands and whistles loudly at me. "Come on. Here, boy. You can do it!"

Between her and Mikam— _The Nurse_ , I'm starting to get sick of all these adults picking on me. I thought people were supposed to grow out of this kind of thing after they graduate high school. I'm unable to hide the blush creeping onto my face, so I just turn to look away from her as I approach her table, the same table where we spoke on Sunday.

"Good boy! I would give you a treat, but I left all of my bones in garbage bags at the bottom of the ocean," she says as she casually waves at me.

"Good afternoon, Akira," I respond, awkwardly shoving my hands in my pants pockets. I never know what to do with my hands, so hiding them in my trousers is preferable to leaving them hanging at my side like an ape.

"Well? Have a seat already, or were you waiting for me to be a gentleman and pull your chair out for you?" she asks, pointing at the seat across from her. I assume that's a rhetorical question, but I don't want to risk it.

"Nonono, that's alright," I stammer out, as I quickly plop down into the chair. Smooth, Hisao.

"Ha, you get flustered too easily; we'll have to work on that." She takes a sip from her coffee. I notice that she drinks her coffee black, which is another peculiar quirk of hers. Most women I know dump so much cream and sugar in their coffee that it essentially becomes liquid candy. "So, why are you so late?"

"Huh? I'm not late. This is when we had agreed to meet up," I protest, holding my wrist toward her to show her my watch.

"Well yeah, but I got here early. You're late to being early. In the business world you need to make sure to be at all appointments at least a half-hour in advance if you want to come across as professional," she states, absentmindedly circling her finger around the rim of her mug.

"Yeah, well, I'm not in the business world," I retort, resting my elbows on the table.

"Fair."

"Besides, I would have been here sooner, but with the bus schedule the way it is I couldn't have gotten here earlier even if I wanted to."

"Hmph, hate buses," she sneers, repeating her mantra from the other day when I first met her.

"Yeah, hate buses," I echo back at her.

She nudges forward a second cup of coffee that I hadn't seen, obscured as it was behind the stand-up food menu. "This is yours, by the way."

"Oh… Thank you, but what would you have done with it if I didn't show up?" I ask, taking a sip of the coffee and relishing the feeling of the warm liquid sliding down my throat.

"Drink it? I could chug an entire gallon of this stuff and still sleep like a baby. Caffeine has never really affected me, I just like the taste. My sister keeps trying to make me switch to tea, but I can't stand the stuff."

That's interesting; I never really pegged Naomi for a tea drinker. "Yeah, I don't really like it all that much either."

We continue to chat for a while, about my schoolwork and her job. There's some legal terminology that goes over my head, but I can still understand enough of what she's saying to keep up. From the sounds of it, she's a very valuable asset to have if you're in need of a lawyer. When Kenji inevitably gets caught on indecent exposure charges I'll be sure to recommend her to him.

After a while, I glance down at my watch again and see that several hours have passed. Time really flies when I'm with Akira; she has a way of making me feel relaxed. Maybe she spiked my coffee with something to sedate me.

I think she notices me looking at the time and she smacks her hand against her forehead. "Gah, dammit. Sorry, kid, for a second there I forgot why we were here in the first place. How did things go with Hisao's Angels yesterday?"

" 'Hisao's Angels'?" If we were meant to communicate in code words, she could have warned me first.

"You know, like Charlie's Angels? TV show? Mystery man who's in charge of a group of women who are secret agents?"

"Uhh, I don't…"

"You seriously don't know Charlie's Angels?"

"No?"

'Charlie' is an American name, why would she just assume that I'm familiar with Western television shows? I mean, I would _like_ to watch more of them, but everything that gets sent over here gets dubbed over in Japanese, and I _refuse_ to listen to anything other than the original voices. Everyone knows subtitles are clearly superior.

"God, you suck." She covers her face with her hands in frustration. "I should lend you some of my DVDs or something; you need to be educated, boy."

I'm not used to being told that I 'suck,' so I have trouble coming up with a response to that last statement. Instead I choose to fill her in on how it went with 'Hisao's Angels.'

I tell her all about my day yesterday, starting off with what had happened with Emi, just to get the bad stuff out of the way first. Reliving that part doesn't feel too great, but my mood picks back up once I let her know that I have arranged a new training regimen with the Nurse's help. She also seems especially impressed by my daring chess escapades with Shizune.

She lauds my efforts with an enthusiastic thumbs up and a big toothy grin. "Well, you made things right with the shy gal and Madame Hakamichi, so good job. Shame about your former running partner though. What was it that she said, again?"

"She said 'It's fine, forget about it.' "

Akira inhales sharply and makes a strange hissing noise with her teeth. "Yeesh, in lady language, 'It's fine, forget about it' actually means: 'Things are not fine, and you should be worried.' "

" 'Lady language'?" Kenji had told me that women had their own secret language, but I didn't believe him, I guess even a broken clock is right twice a day.

"Yeah, I may not speak it myself, but I'm still fluent in it. Maybe you said something to her that you shouldn't have? Maybe your body language was off-putting?"

"I'm not really sure; I can never tell if I'm saying the right thing. I've learned everything I know about life through books and lessons. Schools never teach courses on how to interact with others or how to conduct yourself in social settings, so I've always been rather hopeless in that regard, as you've no doubt noticed by now. I got by well enough at my old school because I was eased into it, but with Yamaku I've just been running around like a chicken with its head lobbed off."

I finish up the last of my coffee and rest the empty mug back down before continuing.

"It's like, science is easy. Math is easy, you know? There are concrete, definitive answers to any problem you may have. If you read up on either of those subjects enough, eventually you will come to understand them more. There's only right or wrong, no maybe, no uncertainty. People aren't like that; everyone is different so there's no way to study them. If there was a magical book that could teach me how to deal with people then I would be fine, but that kind of book doesn't exist."

She considers what I said, looking down at the table and drumming her fingers on the surface. After a moment she picks her suitcase up off the floor and props it up on the table. It takes her a second to open it because there's a combination on the clasp. I always thought that having a suitcase made you a big shot, but now I'm thinking that having a suitcase with a lock on it must make you even more of a big deal. I wonder what kind of stuff she has in there to warrant locking up the contents like that.

I'm not left wondering for too long, because once she opens it up, she pulls out a small black book and a pen. A jet-black fountain pen with gold accents to be specific, 'Akira' is engraved on the side.

She holds out the book, shaking it back-and-forth as she speaks, "Luckily for you, I currently have such a book in my possession. It's yours if you want it."

"Wait, really? You think this can help me?" I doubt that she would just happen to have a book on such a specific subject on her at all times, especially when she clearly has no issues dealing with people herself.

"I think so, yeah," she says, tossing the book toward me.

I didn't expect her to throw it at me like that, so I fumble with it a bit, but manage not to drop it. I can't hold back my curiosity any longer and I begin flipping through the pages, but…

"It's empty. There's nothing in here," I observe, looking back over at her confusedly.

"Well yeah, that's because we haven't written it yet," she responds, flicking the black and gold pen, causing it to roll across the table over toward me.

I hastily grab it before it rolls off the edge and stare back at her with both objects in my hands, still not quite sure what she's implying.

"You religious, Hisao?"

I think back to my embarrassing experiment the other day that resulted in Kenji killing a large amount of my brain cells by slamming my bedroom door against my head. "No, definitely not."

"I was hoping you'd say that, otherwise you might consider this next part blasphemous." She places one hand in her pocket and uses her other hand to point at the leather book in my hands. "That right there is your new bible, 'The Book of Akira,' " she says this as she looks upwards theatrically, as if she were gazing into the heavens themselves.

 _The Book of Akira._

"Are you… serious?"

"Dead serious. You wanted rules; I'm going to give you rules. When I tell you to write something down, you do so, no questions asked. Once that book is filled up, you'll have yourself a comprehensive strategy guide on how to beat the game of life. Y'know, tips from someone who's already won. The keys to the kingdom, as it were."

"I don't—"

"RULE NUMBER ONE!" she proclaims, holding her right index finger upwards, " 'Akira is the best.' Go on; write it down like a good little scribe."

"Really?"

"I told you, _no questions_. If you're going to be taking my advice you first need to recognize that I know what I'm talking about. You only want to learn from the best, ergo, I'm the best. That, and I like stroking my ego." She puts on an exaggerated air of self-importance and turns her nose upwards smugly as she tells me this. I'm pretty sure she's joking, but who knows at this point.

This is kind of ridiculous, but I'll play along if it means that she'll keep helping me. My penmanship is rusty, but I still try to spell it out in as nice a cursive as I can manage. When you're writing in an expensive looking book with an expensive looking pen, it feels wrong to write sloppily.

Once I've finished writing down Akira's first rule, I turn the book over and show it to her. She has a bit of a laugh when she sees it and claps her hands together, clearly pleased with herself. "Oh man, this is kind of fun. I never want to have kids, so it's nice having a protégé of sorts to pass my knowledge on to. Other than my sis, I mean."

Never wants kids, huh? I suppose I don't either, but I haven't put any real thought into it yet, I'm way too young to be thinking about that kind of thing. "So, how old are you, Akira?"

She visibly winces and slumps down in her chair slightly. "Oof. Kid. You _never_ ask a lady her age. That'll be rule number two, write that down."

I can feel my face turn beet-red, so I turn my attention downwards and begin speedily scribbling down the second rule. "S-Sorry, I didn't know."

She straightens back up right away and begins laughing once more. "Relax, dweeb. I'm twenty-five. Even though most chicks shy away from the question, I can assure you that I don't give a damn about my age; I was just busting your balls. Like I said the other day, you need to be more confident. Girls dig that sorta thing, and it'll make guys respect you. That can be our third and final rule for now."

I hadn't finished writing down the second rule, so I pick up the pace and quickly jot down both of them before closing the book.

We continue chatting for a few more hours, and unfortunately, there are no fireworks this time to warn me of how late it's gotten. It's only when I take a glance outside and notice that it's almost pitch-black out that I begin to panic. Once again I had completely lost track of time. Talking and joking around with Akira is almost hypnotizing, I need to start setting an alarm on my phone when we hang out or something.

I quickly stand up and throw some money on the table to cover all of my drinks, there should be some change left over, but I don't have time to collect it. I thank Akira for helping me again and explain that I need to run to catch my bus or I'll miss curfew. As I'm halfway to the exit I hear her speak up again.

"Listen, how about I give you a ride back to school?" she offers, now also standing up from the booth.

"I don't know…" Admittedly, that would be nice, but isn't that weird? This is only the second time we've hung out and she's seven years older than me.

I think she can see the reluctance on my face and rolls her eyes at me. "What, did mommy teach you to never get in cars with strangers? Look, the only reasons an adult would have to kidnap a high schooler are either to molest them or murder them and harvest their organs. So, first of all, I already have a boyfriend and don't need to sexually assault anyone. Secondly, no offence, but I doubt your heart would catch a high price on the black market. Besides, you're taller than me, so if it came down to it you could probably take me in a fight… maybe. So are we good to go or what?"

"It's not anything like that, it's ju—"

"Unless you would rather take the bus." She shrugs, picking up her suitcase.

Okay, she got me there. "Yeah, I'll take that ride thanks."

"Was that so hard?" she asks as she passes by me and goes through the exit. She holds the door open with her foot and beckons for me to pass through as well. "M'Hisao."

I chuckle lightly at her stupid joke as I make my way through the door and begin walking over to her car. "Do you really need to keep treating me like I'm a girl?"

"Stop acting like one and I'll stop treating you like one, pointdexter," she retorts, smacking me softly against the back of my head.

She twirls her keychain around her index finger a few times and presses a button in the centre, causing the doors to unlock. She strolls over to the driver's side and slides into the vehicle, smacking her hand twice against the roof of the car as she enters.

I almost sit in the back, but that's way too weird, even I know that. She's my friend, not my nanny.

Huh… I suppose she is my friend now, isn't she?

Before entering through the passenger side door I open up 'The Book of Akira' one last time and read back what I have written down so far, from the bottom to the top.

 _ **Rule #3: Be confident.**_

 _ **Rule #2: Don't ever ask women how old they are. (IMPORTANT)**_

 _ **Rule #1: Akira is the best ツ**_

Yeah, that sounds about right.

* * *

 ** _Author's Notes:_** Huge thank you to SLotH4 for reading through the story and editing spelling and grammar. Make sure to check him out!


End file.
